Paper Dolls
by ColumbiaTheGroupie
Summary: Bella is the 'punk as fuck you' front-woman taking over the Seattle rock 'n roll scene. Enter Edward, a Seattle local & friendly neighborhood vampire that comes to her aide in a dark alleyway. Who knew that one encounter would alter their lives forever?
1. Chapter 1: Fernet About It

Chapter one

 **Fernet About It**

* * *

Dried blood caked her fingertips. Unwashed deep brown hair splayed over puffy red eyes until finally spilling down a threadbare, ichor encrusted pillowcase. Occasionally she'd inhale deeply. Her left nostril had been clogged for the better part of six hours, the incessant whistling annoyed her close quarters travel companions with every labored breath. No one thought to wake her, to put a stop to the offending sound. They were all overtired from weeks of terrible sleep and hungover from last night's cheap bottle of tequila in San Francisco, roughly ten hours south of the rusted, old van's current location. Instead, they listened to the low frequency hum of an equally tired engine and the rattling of glass on metal as they traversed the autumnal mountains of Northern Oregon.

Mike, the loyal roadie and drummer for Seattle's homegrown, Paper Dolls, was leading the caravan along with the help of two Five Hour Energy shots and a steel bladder. For the two month duration of this tour the driver's seat had been his throne, well, besides his drum throne. Two long months of interrupted REM cycles, cheap food, and no sex had him itching to get to their next and final show of the tour. Daydreams of slipping into his clean jersey cotton sheets had already halted two bathroom breaks for the crew.

The last tour had been an unbearable four months driving from the west coast, to the east coast, and finally back again with absolutely zero cash to spend or stash away to pay rent. He'd sworn he was done. His fiancee, Jessica, had made him do a silly pinky swear to resign from Paper Dolls within twenty minutes of settling into their one bedroom Los Angeles apartment. She retracted her pinky swear when the label countered his original monthly stipend with an incredibly convincing number, one that allowed her a small per diem. With his first check she'd gone out and bought a designer handbag. Mike dyed his naturally bleach blond hair a bright blue and quit his shitty bartending job.

Eric, founding member and rhythm guitarist extraordinaire, sat fiddling with his phone in the passenger seat, every so often running a hand through his ink colored hair. Long dead and without a power source in sight, he was in for an excruciatingly phone-less four hour drive. Every couple of minutes he'd sigh or tout something political or nihilistic. Mike tuned it out for the most part. "Bells, are you dead? It's three in the fuckin afternoon."

The brunette woman stirred in the back of the van, slamming a paper concert bracelet filled wrist against her ancient bass cabinet. Mike and Eric were unfazed by the minor display of aggression, chuckling softly to themselves about their sleepy comrade.

Bella Swan was the true lifeblood of Paper Dolls. She was a regular player in the DIY LA music scene, hosted hundreds of house shows, booked some of the best bills her generation didn't know they wanted, and had a 'dude' for any kind of illegal substance money could buy. All before the tender age of twenty four. She was a blooming starlet in a sea of cigarettes and cocaine, a genuine Pacific Northwest diamond in the Hollywood rough. Their culty, Berkeley-based macro label, Riot Records, originally found Bella touring with LA punk band, The Topo Chicas. Riot offered a three album deal that night, but Bella declined due to her allegiance to the three piece project of her heart: Paper Dolls.

"I told you to wake me up at noon, dude," she grumbled from the back, resting her chin on the bench seat separating the bandmates. She swung her arms over the top as well.

"We tried, but you've got a mean right hook," he chuckled, miming a dramatic punch to the face.

Bella glanced down at her bloodied right hand. There were no visible cuts or scrapes that would've caused such heavy hemorrhaging. She investigated further, even going as far as to make sure she hadn't started her period in the night. "This better be ketchup, guys." She touched the tip of her tongue to her knuckle, the tangy & metallic taste that followed caused her further panic.

"You should probably lay off the blow, idiot. That's the third gusher this week, I don't even know how many this month" Mike chastised, inhaling deeply despite his own post nasal drip and sore throat. Bella pressed the pads of her fingers to her nose only to find more dried blood. "At least wait until the third album to get all hardcore and addicted on us."

The van shook with laughter, but Mike and Eric shared a poignant glance, confirming unspoken fears for their beloved bass player and front-woman. Bella's LA boyfriend, Jacob Black, had ended their year long fling upon hearing news of the latest band excursion. West Coast All American, good time gal had slowly morphed into an anxious shell of a woman after that fateful date.

When it came to discussing action regarding the post-breakup madness, Mike and Eric felt compelled to postpone any drastic measures for fear of ruining their enjoyment of the tour. They kept it a lighthearted most days; crossing their fingers while railing lines, sarcastically mentioning funeral arrangements and last wishes as a sort of macabre toast before shots. The three friends frequently joked about how perfect Jake's timing had been, having finished the record three days prior. Bella had failed to write any new material since and she acknowledged and found humor in this fact daily.

The nasty split and Bella's subsequent drug use prompted the band to hastily end all leases, pack up the van, complete Riot Record's two month tour contract, and finally return home to Seattle. For good. That was as big as their plan had grown. Rehab centers were not being researched, therapists seemed pricey and unlikely when two-thirds of the crew lacked health insurance. The boys knew that with their return to normal life in Seattle, their drug use would subside. It would become a thing of the past, it had become a way to pass time on the road. Not to mention their girlfriends were adamantly opposed to anything that wasn't grappa. Bella had no one truly meaningful outside her bandmates. Renee & Charlie Swan has long disowned their daughter for her bohemian attitude. Jacob was clearly out of the picture, although he had always been more of an enabler than a caretaker. Eric and Mike preferred to remain positive, however. Hopeful that some cool Seattle air, a change of scenery, and a close proximity to her small hometown would straighten Bella out. Naive to the fact that such circumstances hardly ever sorted themselves.

Bella's spiral into depression mode had been gradual. She knew her relationship with Jake was fucked from the start, but she'd always felt that was true in a charming, forbidden love kind of way. The self obsessed loser timed their breakup to coincide with her departure. One week before the start of the biggest, riskiest career move she'd made since dropping out of University of Washington with a solid 4.0. The resulting mental anguish outweighed any level of grief she'd experienced before.

"Are those pretzels still in the glove compartment?" Bella croaked, gently clearing her throat a few times.

"No, we smoked this morning and ate them. Sorry dude, but you were out cold. We can stop at the next gas station and grab shit," Eric replied, tapping the windows as they passed an exit hospitality sign. He glared at his black phone screen. "I haven't spoken to Angie in three days, Bella. Have you heard anything from her?"

Bella smiled thinking of her former college roommate, Angela Weber. "Nope." She sat up and looked Eric directly in the eye. "I flushed my phone down the toilet in Albuquerque last week," the grin that followed was genuine, maybe a little proud. She couldn't remember the exact moment that her rage sparked, all she knew was that Jake had tried to call her at some point in the night and the nearest trash receptacle was to the right of the toilet. Her aim had always been poor, she mused.

"That's fuckin brilliant, Bells," Mike chuckled, sarcastically. His smiling blue eyes caught hers in the rearview mirror. "Want to text her from my phone?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind." Eric didn't wait for a response before snatching Mike's smartphone from the center cup holders.

A peaceful silence had fallen over the van forty-five minutes out from Seattle. The valiant heroes returning home from war, the team's first home game in almost a year. There was so much energy buzzing throughout the van, Bella didn't dare say a word and interrupt it. They hit mild traffic entering the densely populated University District, but that was to be expected at 7pm on a Friday night.

"What's the place look like?" Eric asked. The electricity was gone, Bella snapped back to reality and suddenly felt claustrophobic being minutes from her old neighborhood.

"I don't know. Jasper sent me a blurry picture last week. Looked like shit, but I can't blame the fucker for being proud," Mike said, briefly peeling his eyes from the row of dark buildings to their left.

"It's supposed to look like shit, shithead," Eric quipped.

Jasper Whitlock was Mike's best friend from high school back in Austin, Texas. They moved to Seattle upon graduation to attend University of Washington's music school, but promptly dropped out to pursue more practical, kinesthetic forms of their chosen path. The House of Dirt became their brainchild. An all inclusive, punk as fuck you, cash only DIY venue that recently relocated to acquire a legitimate business and liquor license. Paper Dolls had been fortunate enough to play the first incarnation of HoD, though Bella heard insane stories about the new space from other touring bands. Apparently it was always packed and only slightly more law abiding since the change over.

Mike gave up on locating the bar after circling the same block three times. He instead settled for a well lit parking space five minutes away from the camouflaged venue. At least, that's what Google Maps estimated. He expertly parallel parked the van and made a grand gesture of hitting the unlock switch. Bella threw the back door open and immediately jumped out to stretch her legs.

The minute her well worn Dr Martins hit the damp pavement, she felt slightly more at ease. She closed her eyes and inhaled as deeply as her clogged sinuses would allow. "Smells like-"

"- you need to shower," Mike snorted, lifting a lock of her shoulder length hair to his nose. She playfully swatted him away and lifted her arm to expose an un-showered armpit. Mike eluded her gesture by bouncing around to the back of the van to immediately begin load in procedure. Eric and Bella followed suit. They had their routine down to a mere fifteen minutes.

Bella hauled her cab out of the van and began the trek to the House of Dirt. To the band's surprise, Jasper familiar face and messy blonde hair met them at the corner behind the bar.

"Hey, could I have y'all bring that shit through the back? It should be open." he said, slapping Eric on the back and pointing towards a poorly lit alley one lot in from the corner. "I can lend a hand, doors aren't till nine."

Once inside and completely loaded in, Paper Doll's equipment placed carefully in the back behind the other band's gear, Jasper slid a few PBRs and shots of well whisky to his friends. He raised his two ounce glass in a toast, "To your first show at House of Dirt: version 2.0." The band tossed their shots back without hesitation, although Bella instantly regretted the decision, as she hadn't eaten a square meal that day. She excused herself to the restroom to expunge the well liquor. "What? Can't hold your liquor, Bells?" Jasper shouted from behind the bar.

The sound of their laughter faded when she slammed the ladies room door and began retching into the dirty commode . Her eyes watered and he nose burned for nearly five minutes. "Fuckin Whitlock," she sighed, wiping her mouth across the back of her hand. She leaned back against the poster covered walls, tattooed legs stretched out in front of her. She'd felt like death for weeks, but refused to visit a doctor or even confide in her bandmates. Each night she'd hide her deficits with amphetamines or alcohol. It was always a shame when the locale they booked couldn't provide her self prescribed medication. Tonight; however, that particular worry was not on the list.

Bella reached into her pocket and pulled out a torn plastic bag twisted around fifty dollars worth of cocaine. She always kept a personal stash hidden from the boys. It wasn't a lot, but it was meant to never be shared.

She carefully unwound the bag and dipped a long, silver key into the powder. Three small bumps later, Bella emerged from the bathroom in high spirits.

"You alright, lady?" Jasper questioned. The mood amongst the boys was somber. Had she interrupted a serious discussion? No, the boys didn't do serious on the fly.

She approached them, slightly worried her perception was off. That paranoia had already settled in at eight on a Friday. That was more of a 4am, after hours sort of feeling. Instead of giving into her insecurities, Bella swallowed them, straddled the barstool, and slammed her palm down on the bar. "Four shots of Fernet, asshole."

"Branca or Menthe?" Jasper retorted, followed by a hearty chuckle.

The opener was scheduled to go on at ten, so naturally the locally popular four piece, Reno, stumbled onto the stage at quarter past eleven. The room hadn't totally filled out yet, though most patrons waited for the headliner to vacate the bar. Bella and the boys were in the dark green room, lazing on dingy couches away from the crowd. They feigned interest in the garage group for about fifteen minutes before the set started to resemble four young white dudes beating a dead horse with a stick. The crowd seemed to maintain their enthusiasm.

Jasper carefully divided up eight lines of cocaine, taking one for himself and passing the small mirror to Eric. "Nose beer?"

"Ten minutes," came a small voice from the doorway. Eric looked up from the task at hand to see the sound girl, Tanya peeking her strawberry blonde head in. "Just thought I'd let you guys know." She was gone as quickly as she came.

"Be careful with that one," Jasper warned, taking a swig of his beer. "Precocious and unashamed. Not that she needs to be, just be sure she know you guys are not interested. I've caught her in here with more band boys than I care to admit."

"How old is she?" Bella asked, tightening Eric's rolled up one dollar bill.

"Nineteen," Jasper said. "She has her class 13 servers permit and is studying sound at the university." He sipped his beer again. "And she works for cheap, what can I say?" the group chuckled and finished passing around the mirror just as a thunderous applause began in the venue.

The Reno boys bounded into the green room with big smiles on their faces. "Did you see that crowd? Did anyone see that girl with the black hair off to the side? Babe city." the drummer said, grabbing a beer from the cooler near the door. "Anyone need a cold one?"

"Me," Bella said, extending her arms to catch the can he promptly threw her way. Everyone else besides the remaining members of Reno declined, fully aware too many shots had been consumed early in the evening. She shook a stray ice cube from the top and opened the beverage, immediately chugging most of it. It this was the last show of tour, she'd be having her cake and eating it too. The room cheered her attempt, high fives of solidarity and well wishes were shared between bands. "Okay, let's get this fuckin show on the road," she slurred.

Eric clapped his hands together in excitement and stood, grabbing the hands of his beloved friends and pulling them to their feet as well. Jasper followed them out of the room, a wide grin on his face.

Bella glanced at the crowd before making her way to the stage to pull her bass out of its worn case. Mike had allowed Reno to use his kit, minus the cymbals, so he set to work on replacing the ride and crash before adjusting the toms. Eric's Fender Strat played once through his amp before Tanya turned up the sound, causing the usual feedback and reverb. Bella turned her amp up a few notches and tested the first few chords from their opening song, Andy, as a teaser for the crowd. They quieted slightly, but returned their attention to their loud individual conversations.

Bella took a moment to size the crowd up once again. A short girl with pale skin, inky hair and a strange glare caught her eye. She stared for a moment before Eric tapped her shoulder, offering an excited smile and a thumbs up. The familiar cue they'd worked out years ago. Completely forgetting the girl, she grinned in response, nodding her head

Bella stepped up the the microphone and took a deep, sultry breath allowing her hair to hang over her face, "We're Paper Dolls and we sound like this," her voice trailed off as she allowed muscle memory to take over.

Shots were passed to the stage when she asked between songs, her punk prowess overtaking the crowd the only way Bella Swan knew how to. The band had presence, tunes that nearly rivaled The Clash, the hottest front woman of the year, and most surprisingly: tender love songs that broke hearts, even those deeply devoted or usually unaffected. Once or twice while singing Love Will Stone You, Bella imagined that Jacob was hiding in the crowd. Near the back, sipping a Tecate with lime, waiting for her to finish so he could rush the stage and show everyone just who she belonged to. But she didn't belong to him. Not anymore.

The crowd immediately demanded an encore, a chant started by Jasper in the back, no doubt. The trio happily obliged by playing their most recent single released by Riot, Long Time No See. With a final cymbal hit, Mike started packing up his gear, Bella and Eric followed suit. Load out commenced while the venue patrons continued their party closer to the bar.

Thankful for the space and a chance to sit, Bella sat down on the lip of the stage, her feet dangling just an inch above the door. She hadn't kept track of how long she sat there with her ankles crossed, Eric and Mike had long disappeared. Probably to locate the van. Her vision started to blur a bit, but that was a feeling she was used to. She felt wild, proud, slightly unsteady, invincible, but mostly happy.

Out of the corner of her eye, Bella witnessed a black haired, greaser type head toward the load out door. She instinctively stood, assuming the mysterious man was Jacob come to make her whole again. He always wore the same vintage leather jacket and black Levis with a hole in the left knee. His tan complexion stuck out like a sore thumb in Seattle. It had to be Jacob.

Before darting into the alley, Bella locked eyes with Jasper waiting for the restroom. The same worry from earlier overtaking his features. He must have seen Jacob exit the building as well. She held a hand up, silently telling him to stay put, that she'd deal with Jacob like an adult.

Bella stumbled into the dimly lit alleyway connected to the House of Dirt. The thirty foot expanse smelled of rain and a few weeks worth of beer bottles, but was empty and relatively clean overall. She could've sworn Jacob had ducked through this exit only moments prior. Bella Swan wasn't crazy. Au contraire, she had always been sharp as a tack and stubborn as all hell. A true skeptic of the paranormal and an avid zodiac denouncer.

Bella chugged the rest of her warm beer and threw the empty can to her feet. She kept her gaze low and let her sweaty locks fall forward, collecting herself. From the outside she looked deep in mediation, but the reality of the situation was incredibly different. Her breathing was erratic and she craved something to dull the pain of Jacob's memory and her weakness.

Bella's dark brown eyes were stuck admiring the colorful swirls of an iridescent oil slick when a sudden movement down the alleyway focused her attention upward. She locked eyes with a tall stranger.

"Jacob?" she called out, hoping the low light wasn't playing tricks. Her voice echoed eerily down the alley. She noticed his graceful stride. Definitely not Jake, she mused, remembering his muscular gait. This man's pale complexion belonged alongside marble busts in the Greek history museum. Devastatingly handsome and no doubt headed towards her, he appeared concerned, the same look Jasper had given her. Her center of gravity felt off suddenly, she rocked from her heels to the balls of her feet. His right arm raised slowly until his fingertips were pressing Bella's shoulder into the brick wall behind her, preventing the full on face-plant that would've occurred otherwise. "Thanks," she slurred, taking note that he was careful not to invade her direct personal space. He wore black leather gloves which provided yet another layer between his touch and her naked shoulder. Usually men couldn't wait to lay a hand on her. She appreciated the distance.

"Miss, are you okay?" his voice was deep and reminded her of every fifties crooner she'd ever swooned over growing up. He had her full attention.

"Yeah," she slurred, placing her palms on the bricks. She smirked, but the expression faded quickly when she remembered exactly why she'd left the cozy venue. "I'm just looking for a buddy of mine. He has black hair and-" she hiccuped. "I think I might, uh, I'm crazy," Bella lamented, finally recognizing the pity and curiosity in his jade colored eyes.

"I didn't see anyone, but I'd be happy to bring you back inside. I only stepped out for a smoke. I can help you find him. What's your name?" He removed his hand from her shoulder to see if she could stand on her own. Bella wobbled twice, but regained her balance very quickly.

"Bella," she hiccuped again. "I'm Bella, I play in that band."

The young man smiled and motioned toward the bar door, hoping she'd follow. "I noticed. My sister dragged me out this evening, but I'm quite thrilled she did. She loves your band." Bella attempted a few clumsy steps, her bare knees colliding with the pavement seconds later. She felt the skin there split open on the gravel. "Do you need to sit down for a minute? Should I be locating someone?" he asked, awkwardly fidgeting with his gloves.

"No, no. I'm so sorry. I never get like this." She felt a familiar tickle in her sinuses and inwardly groaned. The kind of tickle that usually resulted in tremendous, unrelenting bloodshed. She raised a trembling hand to her nostril and quickly pulled it away. A single drop of blood had transferred to her index finger. She raised her bloody hand to the man, wordlessly explaining her predicament; hoping he'd have a handkerchief or at the very least, a bandana. Bella's gesture was childlike, her eyes wide and clearly terrified that her life had spiraled so low, but mostly embarrassed that this altruistic stranger was privy to a drug fueled episode. Was she dying? Alone in an alley with a genuine Greek god of a man? It dawned on her that this man was more than likely another figment of her coked out subconscious, just like Jacob had been minutes ago.

"Bella you-" he started to say. His eyes turned pitch black, a feral edge hijacking his once soft features. She blinked rapidly, trying to understand what sort of parlor trick would account for the disappearance of his pupils. She heard an animalistic growl building in his chest. Why would her brain portray this weird delusion? To scare her off the white stuff for good? Paranoia and strangely specific hallucinations of her imminent death would certainly do the trick. Her heart rate doubled, no tripled, involuntary screams bubbled in her throat when the rabid stranger took a step closer. Danger was near, goosebumps appeared across her flesh. "Forgive me." His eyes were tender; however, not matching the ravenous look marring his beautiful face. She stared into the abyss that his pupils had become. For hours or seconds, she wasn't sure.

When his gaze became too much, Bella's closed her eyes, preparing for an aneurysm or heart attack. Whatever was forcing her to trip was obviously biological in nature. A lack of oxygen to the brain, DMT, whatever happened before death. She prayed it would all be over soon.

She squeezed her eyes shut once more, but instead of her head hitting the ground as she'd suspected and braced for, something cold and sharp and seriously painful sliced through the soft skin of her neck. Within seconds a slow burning sensation spread throughout her chest, fading out to her fingertips. Her screams became audible, piercing the stillness of the late hour.

An hour prior she had begun the first song of the most fruitful musical tour of the last five years. Fast forward to now and she was beginning what were surely the last moments of her shitty life. Poor Isabella Swan, left to die alone with her psychosis & drug addiction in an alleyway. Age 23. Eric & Mike would mourn her the longest, but she could see them moving on with their lives seamlessly, the way they'd always envisioned. Mike would probably have a beautiful blonde haired, blue eyed baby with Jessica, a commitment that would fill the gap the band would leave behind. Eric would most likely propose to Angela within a few months of Bella's death, free to do as he wished without the band to consider.

Bella, who poured one hundred percent of her heart and soul into Paper Dolls had always been the one to pull the boys together for band related endeavors. She knew they were committed, enough to follow her to California and back again when her life proved too chaotic and unstable to function away from the only home she'd flourished in. She knew Mike and Eric had more than earned their right to personal lives. Homemaker Jessica, deserved the white wedding of her dreams. Angela; her sweet, sweet ex-roommate deserved a present boyfriend, not a series of heart emoticons and a dim phone screen as an unsatisfactory replacement.

Everything seemed to click into place as this beautiful delusion sucked the life from her body. She no longer hated Jacob, nor longed for his presence. She pitied his shallow, near sighted way of life. She pitied his inability to care for someone who thought the world of him, she hated his tendency to use and abuse every substance in sight. She maybe resented him for formally introducing her to Los Angeles's dangerously drugged out garage rock scene a year ago, but even that was water under the bridge. Bella understood she'd rightfully earned her place on death row and now Mike and Eric and Jacob would all be able to move on absolutely scot free.

Her screams quieted as two chocolate brown eyes rolled back. Her limp body hit the gravel once more just as the venue door swung open.


	2. Chapter 2: Relics

Chapter Two

 **Relics**

* * *

The high-pitched sound of birdsongs pulled Bella into a semi-conscious state. Her limbs felt light and incredibly fine for someone who was used to waking up with a category five hangover. She carefully stretched her muscles, one at a time, trying to find any hidden pain or injury before moving her entire body upright. Her limbs felt rested and maybe a little stiff, but that faded within seconds of stretching.

Bella sat with her eyes closed, trying to remember her last few minutes of consciousness, sans drunken hallucinations of some beautiful stranger that ended her life. Bella's memories felt cloudy and hard to grasp, but she gathered that she must've passed out in the House of Dirt's lone alleyway looking for the Jacob hallucination. Even in her delusions he maintained his dickhead status. Mike or Eric most likely found her when they stepped out for a smoke, loaded her into the van, or brought her inside. Or something similarly helpful.

Finally prying her heavy lids open, Bella took in the sun filled living room before her. It was uncomfortably bright. Sun sensitivity was not unusual for the morning after a show, but the intensity of this particular non-hangover was causing every cell and nerve in her body to recoil from the rays. She'd developed a habit of keeping a pair of black sunglasses within arms reach for most of the tour. She pined for the embrace of a heavy blanket draped over her head or at least those large sunglasses that had mysteriously disappeared sometime in the past week.

Bella had been laid out on a well used black leather couch she recognized as tragic remains from her college days. A tiny, fleece throw blanket which was currently tangled around her pale legs had surely been tossed onto the couch from Jasper's bed as an afterthought. A television from the early two-thousands stood opposite her. Movies, games, and CDs filled the shelves around it. The variety and number of sports related video games led her to believe this was Jasper's humble abode.

She untangled the blanket, instantly noticing two white bandages expertly wrapped around her knees. A vague memory of falling on the gravel entered her mind, but Jasper must've tended to the wounds before tucking her in on the couch. She placed the pads of her fingertips on her covered knee caps, searching for injury. They felt normal, however.

Out of curiosity, Bella began hastily unwinding the gauze only to find two perfectly unmarred knees. She mentally high-fived herself and ceased inventory for the moment, thankful that her wounds had been superficial enough to heal overnight.

She threw the slightly bloody bandages aside and stood for the first time since the night before, her first few steps unsteady, like a newborn giraffe. Someone had carefully removed her well worn leather boots and set them neatly next to the couch along with her raggedy black backpack. The outside was dotted with pins from various bands and cities they'd visited on tour the past few years as Paper Dolls.

Jasper didn't appear to be anywhere in the small one bedroom apartment. The familiar sounds of early afternoon traffic floated in from an open window. Bella called out a few times, hoping to at least chat about how the night had ended, but quickly realized she was all alone. She could faintly hear a nearby neighbor running the water for a shower. She imagined the walls had to be paper thin for minimal sound to carried with such clarity.

Realizing that the previous evening's events were paranoia and drug induced, Bella wandered into the tiny kitchen looking for any kind of snack, hoping to quell the ravenous hunger clawing at her insides. Jasper always had an aversion to home cooking, well, at least cleaning up from the meal. A sink full of dishes could break the mightiest of Whitlock men, he always joked. She rifled through his cabinets, becoming more disappointed with each reveal. The most she found was a protein bar and a half eaten vanilla yogurt with the spoon still resting in the container. Both seemed to turn her stomach into fits of nausea and ignite a craving for something other than pickles or drugs. She couldn't quite tell what the craving was, only that it was thought consuming and causing a reoccurrence of her childhood bruxism.

Keen on the idea of leaving Jasper's place to reconnect with her friends, but certainly needing to clean up first, Bella headed into the cramped bathroom down the hall from the kitchen. She turned the water temperature all the way up to scorching and waited for the room to fill with warm steam before stripping out of her sweat caked clothes. The spray of the shower soothed her back muscles as she carefully scrubbed away a few weeks worth of tour grime. A single expensive looking purple bottle stood out amongst Jasper's generic, masculine bottles of Suave. The inside held a lavender scented body wash that had to belong to one of Jasper's friends. Even this typically inoffensive scent caused her stomach to roll.

Without a spare toothbrush in sight, she opted to rinse with mouthwash salvaged from the medicine cabinet. The taste was off, though. No longer minty and refreshing, the mouthwash must've gone bad sitting for a while. Jasper had never been one to pay attention to 'best by' date stamps, as exhibited by the two expired half gallons of two percent in his otherwise empty fridge.

Bella once again felt her stomach lurch the same way as before, causing her to expel the blue liquid from her mouth into the sink. The nausea didn't stop there. Heartburn and violent dry heaves overtook her hunched frame. She quickly switched from the sink to gripping the sides of the toilet. A regular occurrence for a person like Bella, she knew that whatever wasn't settling needed to go. With one last painful dry heave, Bella purged at least a pint of congealed blood and necrotic looking black tissue. Concern flooded her head, but concern didn't pay for urgent care bills. She flushed the toilet and limply dragged herself into the main room.

Bella's phone was most likely waterlogged in some New Mexico sewage treatment plant by now, so she wasn't sure where to go or who to call. However, Bella did find a sticky note with the words "SPARE KEY" in all caps, followed by Jasper's lazy signature and a small heart. Sure enough, a gold key sat folded up within the note. She pocketed the items and slipped out the door. She wandered through the young University District, the gang's old neighborhood. Her legs seemed to carry her with ease and her back never ached from the forty pound bag hanging from her shoulders. Bella was sure her hangover had run its course, allowing for a welcomed fresh start to the day.

She breathed deeply and could nearly identify the smell of someone mowing their lawn two blocks away. As well as the stale interior of a passing USPS truck that had seen better days. Red and orange leaves fell around her, the autumn palette appearing more vibrant than ever. The air was cool and damp, common for early October, but the temperature had little to no effect on her bare limbs. She felt giddy and altogether content as she traipsed the mostly empty streets of her first home away from home.

Thirty minutes into her solo excursion, Bella came across the band's red Dodge van parked in the same location as the previous night. An unmistakable relic from 1986. It was the only asset she owned, even though the cost had been split three ways, Eric and Mike lived on the honor system that Bella maintained the van exclusively.

Noticing Eric's sleepy face pressed against the passenger side window, she knocked three times. He stirred slightly, his breath fogging up the already frosty window. Eric's eyes briefly met with Bella's before checking for Mike in the driver's seat. The passenger door swung open a few seconds later, the sound of rusty metal causing Bella's inner ear slight discomfort. "What the fuck, dude? Are you alright? Why aren't you at Jasper's? He said you were dead to the world on the couch," Eric questioned. His words seemed to come all at once, all traces of sleep had left his features.

"I'm fine. No scrapes, no bruises. Minor blood, minor foul," she said, completing a small spin to showcase just how fine she was.

"Well, you weren't fine when Mike found you in the alleyway last night. Your knees were fucked and you had someone's blood all over you," Eric relaxed when he realized his friend was in good spirits and health, the tension between the two immediately dissipating. "I wonder what the other guy looks like."

A vague memory of some beautiful stranger's cold lips on Bella's throat popped into her head, but the lack of physical evidence was proof enough that she'd fabricated the entire encounter. "I'm sorry, dude. I barely remember passing out in the alley. I stepped out for some air and the next thing I know, I'm rummaging through Jasper's kitchen with a headache."

Eric's phone started to vibrate then. He held up his index finger to Bella, answering it immediately. "Hey babe, look—," he paused. Bella could hear Angela's small voice through the phone, she was upset. "No, Angie, listen. I didn't want to drive, babe. Mike and I crashed in the van because Bella got banged up pretty bad last—. No, babe, she's fine. It was nothing. I've got to run, send me your parent's address, okay? Love you, babe."

He listened about thirty seconds longer before pulling the phone away from his face. Releasing a deep sigh, he pressed the heel of his palms into his eye sockets. Bella humorously mimed the use of a whip. "I just made that worse," he laughed.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with us at Angie's? At least until you find a place?" Eric asked, turning to face his bandmate once again.

"And intrude on you two lovebirds? Bella scoffed, imagining the horror of living with the young couple under the watchful eye of Mr. and Mrs. Weber. She cared for her favorite roommate's family, but at twenty four the Weber's doily covered spare bedroom didn't quite meet her needs.

Angela was the only daughter of two retired school teachers. The Weber family had a lot of love to give post retirement and had taken to doting on Angela, as well as Bella when her own mother's presence began to fade from her life. When they shared an apartment in college Angela's mother brought groceries monthly, random household items always appeared after visits, and Mrs. Weber was sure to bring generous presents during the holidays for both girls. The idea of staying with her friends wasn't altogether terrible after a little consideration, but Bella felt she needed her own space. A fresh start in Seattle away from all the Jacob Black bullshit.

"I'm not thrilled to be there either. I'd much rather stay on Jasper's couch, but Angie doesn't have a job yet…" Eric trailed off, looking Bella directly in the eye. "Are you sure you're okay? You're looking paler than usual, Casper." The back of Eric's hand was suddenly on Bella's forehead, feeling for signs of an elevated basal temperature. Her skin held a chill, but lacked the mask of sweat addicts experienced during withdrawal. "You're clammy as shit dude, get in the van. I'm amazed you've been outside this long." He grimaced, she felt different. The hair on the back of his neck prickled at the thought.

Bella shrugged off the suggestion. The cool breeze was pleasant and she didn't see any reason for her friend's concern. "I told you, like, six times. I'm fine." Precisely at the moment she finished her declaration of health, a strong gust of wind tore through the van's open passenger door. Bella felt an agonizing pain in her throat when the aroma of something floral and hearty and alive demanded the attention of all her visceral senses. Hypnotized and mentally thousands of miles away from her body, Bella zeroed in on the flushed skin of Eric's neck.

"Hey, Bella? Isabella, look at me. Can you hear me? _Mike, her pupils are huge_. Are you high right now?" Eric's voice was muted by the heady fog floating around her head. Entirely consuming her and drowning her. Her mouth flooded with bitter saliva. She panicked.

Before either of them could register what had transpired, Bella was frantically sprinting through a nearby alley in the general direction of Jasper's apartment.

Jasper found Bella curled up on the couch in the dark later in day. In his arms, Jasper held Bella's bass guitar and two white plastic bags containing a few groceries. Bella slowly peered up at her friend, forcing herself to remain in control of mind and body.

Jasper sighed. "Kid, I'm gonna go ahead and say it. We've got to get you some help," he chided, flicking on the living room light with his elbow. "Eric and Mike won't say shit. They don't want to fuck up the momentum you guys have." The items he held hit the floor with a thud. "You know what really fucks with momentum? Being six feet in the fucking dirt."

Bella flinched. "I'm not high," she whispered, knowing that Jasper would most likely ignore what she had to say anyway. "I mean, I tried to smoke to chill the fuck out but..." her voice drifted off when a string of profanities floated from the apartment next door. Her eyes floated back to Jasper, who seemed to be waiting for her to conclude her thought. "It didn't work."

Bella thought back to a few hours before when she'd bolted back into Jasper's apartment, breaking the lock off the door. She'd quickly rummaged through her backpack, looking for Eric's stash box and travel bowl. His medical grade weed had done nothing to ease the panic attack she was prisoner to. "Something happened to me last night- "

"I believe you." He took a few steps into the center of the room, causing Bella to sink further into her seat. His tone was dripping with angry sarcasm. "I believe you got high out of your fucking gourd and some lowlife decided to take advantage of that. I'm just glad we didn't have to call the cops. I'm glad you're mostly okay. The last thing House of Dirt needs is a reputation like this." She flinched at his words. Bella simply couldn't agree that she was _okay_.

Jasper sighed and collapsed on the couch next to her. Bella instinctively took a deep breath and held it, terrified by his proximity and what it may stir within her.

"I'm sorry. I know this was not your fault, Bells. I'm pissed off because you've dug such a deep hole and decided to drag us all down with you. You've got a long way to go."

Bella chuckled silently, "You're right."

The two friends sat in silence for a while contemplating their next move. Bella continued to hold her breath.

Unbeknownst to them, Jasper was absolutely right, but not for the reasons he'd alluded to within their conversation. Bella was beginning to realize this alternate meaning, much to her chagrin. She wasn't trying to embrace or even understand the changes taking place within her, but answers would at least allow her to sleep at night.


	3. Chapter 3: Next to Normal

Chapter Three

 **Next to Normal**

* * *

Bella hadn't slept once in the seventy two hours that followed her peculiar encounter with Eric. She was familiar with the restlessness that occurred after prolonged tours and increased amphetamine usage. The feeling of weakness, lethargy, quivering limbs, and simultaneous mania would always ghost throughout her body. But this time her body felt different. The wakefulness was steadfast, almost zen, and devoid of her usual earthly urges, aside from the growing sense of dread that she was seriously ill or disturbed. Bella pulled her knees tightly against her chest and rocked back into Jasper's sofa, taking in the sunrise from the lone east facing window.

Jasper had kindly forced Bella to be his roommate for the foreseeable future. He'd seen too many close friends meet their untimely deaths and was not going to allow Bella to become part of America's most hideous statistic. Eric and Mike were in support of Jasper's plan to get Bella on the, _mostly_ , straight and narrow. The first action they took was canceling all the local shows their manager had booked before their return. Hopefully the time off would give Bella a chance to write and record the few ideas she'd tried out on the road.

The boys had given her space, first and foremost. Jasper wordlessly watched Bella gaze out of his small living room window for hours at a time since she'd agreed to stay with him. Occasionally she would turn as if she was being addressed by an invisible third party, only to be distracted by Jasper flipping pages in his monthly show calendar.

On this particular day; Tuesday, Bella was feeling acutely agitated. Jasper sensed it the moment he opened his bedroom door at six thirty in the morning. The living room was mostly dark, the sky a dusty pink out the window, Bella hadn't moved an inch since Jasper had retired to his bed a few hours before.

"Can you at least pretend to sleep?" Jasper yawned, focusing on the sunrise's orange glow on Bella's eerily blank expression.

"Did you know your neighbor is cheating on her boyfriend?" Bella said quietly. Jasper's brow furrowed. "He walked in on them a few hours ago. I'm surprised her screaming didn't wake you up."

"Yeah, good thing it didn't," Jasper said dryly, running a hand through his bed head. "I'm guessing it woke you?"

"No," she sighed. "I haven't slept yet," Bella continued to leave out the small fact that she was going on seventy four hours without a single REM cycle.

She'd deduced that explaining her newfound chronic insomnia would most likely lead Jasper to believe she was using again. Jasper would in all probability scrounge what little funds he did possess to send her to a detox center. He also wasn't entirely off base. It was an indisputable fact that Bella had, indeed, tried to get high the day before. She'd covertly crushed up an entire fifty bag she scored from a college kid a few blocks away from her Jasper's multi-dwelling building. Extremely desperate and slowly losing her grip on reality, she'd held her breath the entire time. Going as far as to wear leather gloves to completely avoid any accidental skin to skin contact.

Bella's game plan had been to induce an overdose. Not necessarily to end her life; although that option wasn't entirely repulsive, she'd mostly set out to feel something other than this monotony. No sleep, yet no exhaustion. No regular meals, yet her stomach never ached for food. She longed for the warm embrace of her dearest companion. Bella had sobbed for hours when she quickly came to the realization that her companion drug had utterly no effect on her. Instead she'd spent the better part of the evening choking on expensive white dust.

Two days prior, Bella had locked herself in Jasper's bathroom. Emerging from the cramped closet of the room a few hours later, she'd systematically taken note that her skin was absolutely free of any blemishes, and most importantly, was a ghostly white-grey color. Purple bruises graced her cheeks under her black irises. She looked beautiful, otherworldly, and downright dangerous. It was as though the waves of shocking revelations couldn't stop overtaking Bella. Despite this the rhythm of her heart never matched the anxiety fueling her brain. Upon further inspection, Bella could only notice the tiniest whisper of a pulse on her wrist and neck.

The supernatural reflection in the mirror showed that Isabella Swan was very much alive and present in Jasper's bathroom, ugly floral wallpaper, small forehead scar, and all. On the inside; however, Isabella Swan felt altered. She'd never experience exhaustion after a long set or french fries animal style from In-N-Out. Her stride was graceful and foreign, three full packs of guitar strings had fallen victim to her newly acquired strength. It felt as though Bella Swan had died in that alleyway and all that remained was an inhuman shell that walked and talked and daydreamed of ripping out her best friend's jugular.

"I think I may go for a walk," Bella was off the couch and tying her shoes at the door before Jasper could process her movements. He chalked it up to fatigue clouding his mind and nodded in acknowledgement of her abrupt change of plan.

The Seattle morning air was wintry, Bella instantly noticed the heavy coats donned by rosy cheeked early morning commuters. She glanced down at her simple black t-shirt and trousers, mentally adding 'insensitivity to climate' to her growing list of undiagnosed symptoms.

The sun was low, the shadows of the nearby buildings slowly creeping across. A nearby church bell echoed against brick and concrete, signaling the start of a new hour.

Bella purposely walked down vacant streets and alleyways the opposite direction of her old university. She'd planned to avoid sharing airspace with people for as long as luck would allow. She kept her eyes low and her breathing shallow. From the corner of her eye a shimmer of deep red liquid caused her body to still. He sat on a secluded bench, nestled between two large trees on narrow block a few miles away from Jasper's apartment. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, a muscular build, and fresh blood trickling from his battered nose. Bella really only processed the last identifier.

With a throat full of flames and a familiar ache in her jaw, Bella's attempts to try and mute the voice in her head giving elaborate instructions on elementary exsanguination were futile. Her feet silently propelled her forward and before she could halt her actions, Bella's teeth were clumsily puncturing the sweaty skin of the stranger's neck. He fought against her sturdy embrace with obvious intent, but quickly lost any chance of championing his attacker. With every second that passed he lost precious pints of blood; ultimately ending with his limp, lifeless body strewn across a lonely park bench at seven thirty on a Tuesday morning

Taking in the extent of the damage she'd unknowingly inflicted, Bella backed away from the body in horror and found herself in a dead sprint headed West. She raced around the back of Jasper's building and gracefully swung herself onto the rusty fire escape. She effortlessly hauled herself onto the roof seconds later. Her breathing was labored, though not from normal physical exhaustion. Instead, she was gasping for a single deep breath because the stranger's blood coursing through her body made her feel exhilarated and stoned. More so than any drink or drug that came before. She needed more instantly.

Stalking across the roof, her calculating steps mimicked a feral cat, she listened to the early morning clamor of Jasper's twenty-five year old neighbor, and local band boy, Luke. He'd been kind while passing her in Jasper's stairwell the day before. Under different circumstances Bella might've even accepted his offer of grabbing a drink down the street. She'd politely declined in less than six words, once again holding her breath in fear of killing the man. This Tuesday morning; however, Bella stalked the perimeter of his small one bedroom plotting the most seamless entrance and exit after she took what she needed.

Luke had opened his living room window to smoke his regular eight A.M. cigarette shortly after she'd arrived on the roof. Bella caught a whiff of his signature Marlboro No. 27s at the same time everyday. The fragile wisps of smoke rising from the small window lured Bella to the edge. Looking down, there was no doubt she would be able to swing herself carefully into the window.

Her fingers curled around the trim as she prepared to lower herself onto the window sill.

"He'll scream, but you'll kill him anyway. Jasper will hear you and he'll call the cops. They'll ask him about you and you will, A. not have an alibi, and B. you'll be missing. Neither look promising, Isabella Swan. I've never been behind bars, but I can promise an eternity behind them will not be fun."

The smooth voice calling out Bella's legal name interrupted her second hunt of the day. It was the same voice that apologized before sucking the life from her body. She crouched defensively and whipped around, once again locking eyes with the strange man.

"Who the fuck are you," she spat.

"I really loathe to be officially meeting like this, but," he grimaced before continuing. "My name is Edward Cullen, I am your sire."

Bella's jaw promptly fell. "I- I'm sorry? Sire?" Her tone was incredulous, though her stance remained steady.

"I must apologize again, truly, I hadn't known of your condition until Alice informed me yesterday." Edward paused again, carefully examining the confusion in Bella's black eyes. He'd been warned by his dear sister to be direct and to take control of the situation in a positive manner. She was rarely wrong. "You are a vampire," he said slowly.

"Come again?" Her posture relaxed slightly, clearly the man was more deranged than herself.

"Do you not thirst for human blood? Is your heartbeat lethargic?" Bella's hand ghosted over her heart, a lump forming in her throat as she felt a single thud in her chest. "The centennial of the last moment of rest I ever experienced is approaching. When was the last night of sleep you remember?"

"I haven't slept since Saturday morning," she muttered, the pieces of Edward's explanations falling together like bricks in her head as though they were unlikely companions playing a perfect game of Tetris.

Edward's expression was clear. "I can't read your mind. Share what you're thinking, please."

He'd been polite, but the request had distinctly been a demand. "No."

Edward shifted his weight to his right leg, hoping to put on display his humanity and lack of threat to his first and only subjugation. His venom had run through her body, irrevocably altering every cell in its path. It continued to reside in her slightly coagulated plasma even today. Vampire law dictated that Bella rightfully belonged to him, at least until she had learned the nuances of their world. He hadn't carefully considered that the beautiful vampire standing mere inches away would deny him.

"I'm only here to help you, Isabella," he warned.

"It's Bella," she huffed. "And I didn't ask for you help."

Bella took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked in the direction of the the fire escape.

"They'll hunt you down and kill you if you refuse my council." Edward's stern tone and paralyzing words forced Bella to stop walking, as though he had grabbed hold of her. "The leaders of our kind have mandated that every new vampire must spend a minimum of four years with their creator. To ultimately aid in keeping the population low and under control. We cannot risk exposure. You killed an innocent man, Bella. You would've killed two innocent men if Alice hadn't sent me to find you when she did."

Bella's head continued to spin while Edward unloaded her reality in relatively plain speech. Neither of her parents, her high school guidance counselors, or core college credits had coached her on how to handle being told you're dead, but not really dead. Since she'd found herself on Jasper's couch on Saturday morning, sensory overload had clouded every lobe of her enhanced processing. She had answers now, unsatisfactory answers, but at least it was a point at which she could anchor herself to. Her anxiety calmed with the knowledge that others had walked the path she was being forced to travel.

"If I accept your help?"

"We can give you something next to normal," the right corner of his lip fell into a downcast grin.

"Is there a cure?" She asked, her voice quieting as she anticipated his response.

"I'm afraid not."

The two fell into a short-lived, yet mournful silence.

"When were you born?" Bella asked a while later. Edward sat with his legs extended diagonally to Isabella, both finding comfort in the superficial brick walls along the perimeter of their perch. Bella mirrored his position.

"1901," Edward stated, proud of his generation and the methodology of the era.

"Did you ever see Jimi Hendrix play? or the Ramones?" Bella asked, genuine excitement taking over her line of questioning.

"Yes and Yes," he laughed. "I wasn't lying the other night when I said my sister brought me to your show. Nightlife and music tend to keep the tedium to a minimum."

Bella nodded in agreement, the camaraderie between her bandmates and their instruments had fulfilled her when others could not. "Do you think I can still play with the band?" Her voice was weak.

Big brown doe eyes stared back at him filled with undeniable hope. Edward had nearly deflected every trying question Bella had thrown his way about their shared condition. His guilt for ending her life was overwhelming. He'd wanted to declare that she now had the opportunity to fulfill several lifetimes worth of bucket lists and the ability to travel the world as his companion. Edward wanted to see her music dreams to fruition, he'd wanted to promise her that she'd learn to control her bloodlust, eventually rent an apartment and hold down an adequate job.

Bella frowned at his hesitation. She'd always been sensitive to those around her and vampirism had only strengthened her dominant quirks.

"I think we should take this one day at a time."


	4. Chapter 4: Who Loves The Sun

Chapter Four

 **Who Loves The Sun**

* * *

Edward's gaze stayed locked on Bella the entirety of their morning together on the roof. Her expression was mostly blank, a little wary at times. He was confused by her calm demeanor. Bella had continued to ask the most shallow, absolutely wide off the mark questions for hours. She hadn't asked about her diet, her life span, the sacrifices she would need to make in the coming days and months. He'd been frustrated with his own inability to understand her quiet introspection. Normally privy to the thoughts of his peers, Edward felt uneasy deciding the intensity of his answers. He couldn't gage how quickly she was digesting his information or if she was simply humoring him until she had the space needed to escape and take out six more humans. Bella's mind sat tightly sealed, those secret thoughts belonging to her alone.

"Where were you raised?" she asked patiently, enthralled with the vast knowledge Edward possessed. Every other question seemed to be music related; she asked personal questions sparingly, wishing to avoid potentially devastating topics. She stuck with music related questions because her undead companion had the unique ability to recount specific performances of her idols as a reliable primary source for the past century. Edward jumped at the chance to share his long forgotten history that didn't include loneliness and bloodshed.

"Evanston, Illinois. Just north of Chicago. I moved to the city in 1922 to attend Northwestern's graduate school," he recalled.

"Did you graduate?"

"No." Edward and Bella fell silent once again. "I, uh, was changed halfway through the first semester."

Bella decided to leave the elephant in the room for another day. She quickly switched the focus to her. "I dropped out of school, too," Bella whispered. "Undergrad, though," she added after an unusually charged silence. "To move to California and play music. I'm glad I did it," she laughed. Aside from a few poor decisions, like moving in with Jake and using drugs as a crutch, her declaration was true.

"For a vampire, you have very few regrets," Edward laughed along with her. He realized almost immediately his joke had struck a sensitive nerve. Bella's eyes were suddenly downcast, her posture rigid. "I'm so sorry, Bella. You aren't alone in this. We have resources for you."

"Like a Vampire library? No, no-" Bella's forehead met her hands. "The word vampire is still pretty surreal. It won't kill me." She whispered the 'V' word both times. "I'm dead already."

"Mostly."

"Yeah, mostly."

"What did you study?" Edward asked, surprisingly eager to continue their lighthearted interview.

"Art. Painting. I haven't made anything in a while," she said, sadly. She'd dropped out of school to pursue another passion, but hadn't neglected her major completely. It wasn't until Jake pulled the plug on their year long stint that she'd tossed out her remaining paints and brushes along with most of her earthly possessions in order to live in a nine passenger van. She quickly explained her lack of belongings, hoping to avoid any discussion about her current arrangements.

"I'd be thrilled to purchase you supplies, Bella. Truly, money is no object." Edward's generosity seemed unnecessary. She internally groaned. Bella had never been a material person and being undead certainly wasn't going to change her preferences. And she most definitely wasn't taking handouts from a sort of undead, dead guy.

"No, that's okay," she declined. "Besides, I'm sort of homeless living on my friend's couch. I'd have nowhere to store anything, it's pretty much a one bedroom closet."

Edward chuckled, "Well, naturally, you'd be staying at mine, Isabella. I have quite a few instruments you can use, your own room. You can paint the walls, play music all night; _I don't sleep_."

Stunned into silence, Bella became defensive. Jake had tried to make decisions for her in the past and she almost always pummeled him before other demands could be made. She'd always been independent and regardless of her living dead status, she was determined to regain some normalcy. She'd be a bloodsucking rockstar like Lestat in Queen of the Damned, she'd prove it to everyone. "I think I'll stay here, Edward. That's very nice," she grimaced, "but I'm twenty three and won't be needing a babysitter."

It was Edward's turn to be silent. He'd never met anyone so opposed to an olive branch. "I doubt Jasper would agree to having a strange man on his couch for weeks on end," he countered. "The rulers of our kind, the Volturi, they are unforgiving. They will not be pleased I was so careless with you, Bella, and they won't hesitate to silence you. Not to mention you've been in the public eye for a while. Effective today, Isabella Swan is dead. She died when she took a life this morning." Edward huffed, his shoulders slumping. "I'm giving you a fresh start." His creator had used the same words on him decades before. They had worked.

"Isabella Swan died when you _killed_ her," she spat. The venom in her voice not only stung Edward, but it caused Bella to understand the final pieces of the puzzle. Until Edward's ultimatum, Bella had failed to see the heavy gravity of her entire situation. She was Paper Dolls' bass player _Isabella Swan_ , she liked The Zombies and Harry Nilsson. Her parents were from a small town in Northern Washington. No blood siblings to speak of, but family gatherings had been full of young children and playmates. She still liked to smoke weed, an ice cold beer would always trump water on a hot day in July, but nowadays the throbbing of veins held her attention without fail as well. "I don't want a fresh start," Bella stood, angrily. "I wan't you to fuck off. I want to go back to Friday night and forget I ever met you. I, uh, I just want to go home." She faltered, finally realizing she had nowhere to call home. Even her species had abandoned her.

Bella moved to jump off the roof and Edward caught her hand, effectively stopping her. "Let me help, Bella. If it pleases you I will go to the Volturi and repent for how badly I have wronged you. They will take my life and can appoint someone of your choosing."

Her body stilled on the ledge of the roof. "Are you fucking insane, dude? I refuse your help and you threaten suicide? Let's just pretend like this never happened. Go back to your blood bags, and your sister, and just get the hell out of my life." The rusted fire escape groaned when her boots landed on the top grate.

Bella found Jasper's apartment empty, a single note mentioning a band meeting at eight haphazardly thrown on the laminate kitchen counter. It was well after four in the afternoon, he'd been gone for hours. She could tell by the weakened scent of his blood floating around in the stale air. She glanced at her blood splattered shirt for the first time, the gruesome horror of the morning's events settling into the pit of her stomach. She felt like purging all evidence of the slaughtered man entirely.

Pushing the bathroom door aside, Bella reached for the shower knob. Water pressure on high and the temperature slowly rising to scalding, she quickly pressed play on the record player and shed the last of her clothing. Jasper had left Nilsson Sings Newman on the turntable for a few days, no doubt to entice Bella into some impassioned argument that Randy Newman had better chops than Harry Nilsson. She hadn't even blinked when The Beehive State began and Jasper sang along in his native Texan twang.

This time was no exception. She was numb. Dead, well, sort of dead and entirely alone in her new reality. Edward had offered support out of obligation, but the nagging independence deeply rooted in her brain was enough to deny council from the friendliest of men. Jacob had done a number on her a few months ago and now she would never live to see the day her happiness could return. She was stuck with impulsive tattoos forever. She gotten them under the influence of whiskey and the mortal assumption all aspects of life were temporary, especially her flesh and bones. She would be stuck with hair much too long for her liking and the inability to see her band's next album to fruition.

Charlie and Renee, her estranged Mother and Father, would eventually hear of their only daughter's disappearance, not immediately though. They'd blame it on drugs and alcohol and Jacob. Maybe the band, as well. Mike and Eric deserved to grieve their chosen family member in peace without politely accepting blame from a grieving blood relative.

Caught in a mental hydraulic full of despair and anger, Bella hadn't realized she was rocking, arms clutching her knees tightly to her chest on the floor of the grimy tub. She whimpered quietly, attempting to hold in a guttural sob that repeatedly fought to be released. Nausea rolled through her abdomen. She could taste bitter saliva on her tongue, the same kind that overwhelmed her senses in the presence of blood. However; this time, the saliva acted as an aide and warning when she suddenly emptied the contents of her stomach into the drain. Pink water floated around her legs. Her sobs came freely now.

Jasper returned to a dark living room around two in the morning. Exhaustion and worry colored his eyes, but they were no match for Bella's somber expression. He pulled a record out of a sleeve resting on the TV stand, placed it on the turntable, and hit play. Loaded, by The Velvet Underground filled small the apartment. Who Loves The Sun, had been one of Bella's first musical obsessions. Sadly, she felt nothing upon hearing the bright melody. She menacingly grinned during the first chorus, realizing that she, a vampire, definitely could not love the sun any longer.

Jasper exhaled as his body hit the couch, Bella flinched as his blood assaulted her senses. She appreciated the darkness of the room now, unable to see the bluish veins spiderwebbing under the pale skin of his neck.

"Have a good walk?" he groaned.

"What?" Bella whispered in reply, holding her breath. "Oh yeah, it was fine. Uneventful." The lies would surely catch up with her.

"Alice will be here soon."

Bella blanched, if it even was possible for her complexion to become any paler. Another human in the apartment was the last thing she would be able to handle.

"Who's Alice?"

"The girl I've been seeing for two months? You've been under a depression rock, Swan." He sat in silence for a moment. "She's excited to meet you, though. She's spirited and likes pop music. Please, please, please be accommodating," he jokingly pleaded. "And don't say anything about her cold hands. Some hereditary circulation disease, I guess her brother has it too."

The name Alice held a certain familiarity with Bella, but she'd definitely been too caught up in her own drama all week to recall a specific relation. She dog-eared the thought in her head and dropped it for the time being. "Got it. Alice. Accommodating. Pop music," she scoffed, the first hint of humor Jasper had seen in days.

"She likes your band too, Bells. She even went to the show at House of Dirt. I didn't even have to ask her," Jasper smiled as a soft knock on the front door caused Bella to jump. She'd heard the sound of shoes on the staircase sixty seconds ago, the presence of the visitor hadn't alarmed her. What truly piqued her interest was the lack of steady heartbeat from behind the wooden door. "That's Alice."

A well dressed, waiflike young woman with pale skin and short black hair bounced into the room, planting a small kiss on Jasper's ready lips. With an outstretched palm and a friendly smile on her face, she turned to Bella.

"Hello, Bella," she chimed.

Bella searched her nearly infallible brain for the reason why this woman seemed familiar at first glance. She hadn't met her at the show or in the days following. Her polished movements and mannerisms reminded her of a certain Vampire, but certainly this wasn't Edward's sister. The only quality they shared was a sickly complexion.

"Bella?" Jasper prodded when she remained silent a minute longer than he was comfortable allowing.

She inhaled sharply, successfully ignoring Jasper's rapid heart rate and stood to shake Alice's fragile looking hand. Upon palm-to-palm contact Bella's vision was replaced with another sort of picture; like a glimpse into an alternate universe or, quite possibly, the future. A rocky creek ran through tall weeping willows strung with garlands of white flowers and fairy lights, an intimate gathering of familiar faces stood in a clearing celebrating two lovers dressed in elegant black and white formalwear. Upon closer inspection, Bella recognized the lovers as herself and Edward embracing while an adoring Alice and Jasper looked on.

Bella snapped her conscious back into Jasper's living room when she realized his skin was white and his light blue eyes were a devastating black in this vision. She ripped her palm from Jasper's undead girlfriend and recoiled. "Dont you fucking touch him, leech," Bella hissed.

Alice's eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Bella. We're going to be fast friends, trust me," she whispered, low enough that Jasper was still hyper-fixated on Bella's strange outburst. Alice's reassurances did nothing to calm Bella's fiery demeanor and before Jasper could come to his lady's aide, Bella was sprinting out the front door sans socks or shoes.


	5. Chapter 5: Piledriver Waltz

Chapter Five

 **Piledriver Waltz**

* * *

Bella's bare feet were more or less the same temperature as Seattle's public sidewalks, a fact that barely registered with her as she stormed a path of fury anywhere but Jasper's apartment. An apartment that currently needed treatment for a nasty vampire infestation. The streets began to clear of the bar crowd as the blustery winds of October in the Pacific Northwest tore through the University District. Thunder and rain mimicked Bella's inner turmoil so precisely, she felt as though her disposition dictated Mother Nature's grand design.

As Bella reached the border of her neighborhood, her footfalls came slower, she listened to the familiar noises in her tiny pocket of the city until she'd come to a standstill in a long abandoned alleyway. The sound of a Bic lighter flicking to life several times, followed by a rhythmic tapping of hollow plastic peaked her interest. Immediately the silence of a needle meeting bare skin and the subsequent fruity aroma of a single blood droplet pulled her gaze upwards, as if she'd been commanded by God himself.

Before Bella could halt her actions, she was skillfully scaling the brick, ivy laden wall of the multi-dwelling to her right. She cautiously proceeded with her hunt by tiptoeing onto the balconette that belonged to her victim, narrowly avoiding tens of deceased potted plants. Only one heartbeat could be heard inside, Bella grinned, feeling a pang of anticipation in her upper jaw.

Her right hand twisted the knob, finding the door to be unlocked, she slowly pushed it inward. Following the sound of the sluggish heartbeat, she looked to her right and found a young woman laying on her back, sunken eyes closed, with a small needle hanging from her left arm. Bella quickly pounced, she'd stolen over half of the young woman's poisoned blood before she could exhale the initial breath she'd taken in the alleyway.

Bella hadn't noticed much about her first kill, it was break-neck and urgent, no pun intended. She'd only registered the decadent taste of blood filling her with pseudo love and contentment. Her second kill almost played back as if filmed on a high-speed camera, there wasn't a single detail her vampire brain missed. The ache is her jaw disappeared, the burning in her throat seemed to have never existed. Hot, sticky ambrosia flowed through her body, creating the best high she'd ever felt to date. Bella prayed it would never end.

Minutes later, when Bella was satisfied not an ounce of blood remained, she rolled off the girl and onto her dirty mattress. Beginning to feel sluggish from the heroin spiked blood, she laid in silence. Not quite _'heroin nods'_ high, but certainly the sleepiest she'd felt since her transformation into a murderous member of the undead, Bella's racing thoughts drifted.

Staring around the woman's patchouli soaked studio apartment with heavy eyelids, Bella began to muse that perhaps this had all been some sort of psychosis, or a dream. Not a single soul that she personally knew before Friday's show had knowledge of the supernatural soap opera -slash- homocide detective program Bella's life had become. Maybe she'd imagined Edward, like she'd imagined Jacob. Or imagined her great strength and speed. Or her desperate need to feed on mortal blood every second of every day. Maybe Alice was a totally normal human woman with a genetic condition that caused poor circulation and the misfortunate circumstance of crossing paths with Isabella Maria Deranged, (née Swan).

Her eyes continued to sweep over every inch of the young woman's room with vague interest. Dirty clothing littered the floor, old sheets acted as curtains, half burned candles cluttered every available surface. Bella recognized this place, it was her room. At least, it resembled every room she'd ever lived in the past five years as an early twenties traveling musician. Down to the moldy take out boxes balanced atop the overflowing garbage can. Their similarities went beyond kitschy decor, however. Neither young woman had a future to look forward to. Bella had stolen them both. Her stomach knotted in anguish.

A booming knock on the door shook Bella from her mental soliloquy. She bolted upright off the bed and anxiously faced the door. Unsure as to why her recently agile mind and body couldn't produce either fight or flight, she resigned to stand frozen in fear, hoping that the visitor was not in possession of a key to this particular studio. If they did; however, hold the key, Bella was primed for arrest or death, whichever came first. There was no doubt she deserved every single ounce of retribution about to be unleashed by this unwelcome visitor.

Unfortunately, she could feel _'flight_ ' creeping into the edges of her subconscious. The determined jingling of keys, followed by another swift knock caused Bella to slowly back away from the front door until her heels met the edge of the balconette. Suddenly, Edward was beside her, a firm hand positioned on her lower back. Certainly a welcome visitor now that Bella had established he'd been a inane figment of her imagination the entire time.

"Bella, jump with me," he whispered, gesturing to the litter covered pavement four stories below. Bella agreed inaudibly, fully embracing the voices in her mind's eye telling her to end this miserable half life she'd fallen victim to. Edward gently closed the small french doors behind them and took one big, graceful stride off the metal platform. Bella followed one step behind with minor hesitation.

Bella always new that jumping from a building would be quick and painless, or at least quick enough that pain wouldn't have a chance to register throughout her body, but she wasn't sure medical examiners classified landing on your feet in a perfectly unharmed state, a suicide. Her jaw began to quiver violently whilst her pleading brown eyes met Edwards, begging for compassion and the answers she was in desperate need of.

"Would you like to clean up at my place?" Edward asked, his deep green eyes full of concern and the smallest sliver of warmth for his unraveling companion. Comprehending that she couldn't simply waltz into Jasper's apartment covered in junkie blood, Bella opted to accept Edward on his offer on one condition;

"P-Please," she stuttered in between stifled sobs. "Help me."

Edward chose to carry his grieving and barefoot houseguest the single mile to his gambrel roofed home in ritzy Laurelhurst. Precisely aware that Bella was in fact, an invincible vampire, and not a fragile human; Edward still felt it the proper gentlemanly thing to do. Not to mention, his transformation had afforded him unnatural speed, even by average vampire standards.

Bella felt the rain ease off her back as Edward unlocked the back door to his dwelling. Finally daring to peer up from the crook of Edward's neck, it took no time at all for her eyes to adjust. The dimly lit room surrounding her was cozy and elegantly decorated with leather couches, vintage hurricane lamps, and more books than Bella had ever seen outside of a public library. The hardwood floors were covered in haphazardly thrown oriental rugs, though admittedly, the rugs seemed to be curated in a purposely chaotic fashion. At Bella's feet she noticed a small cobblestone fireplace built into a shallow set alcove. More books sat perched on either side of lightly used hearth accessories, while family photos graced the wooden mantle. The entire grounds smelled of baking spice, a scent she'd come to associate Edward.

"My father had this home built for me in nineteen-twenty two as a birthday present," Edward whispered, flipping the switch to ignite the gas fireplace. "I've added a few creature comforts since then."

"I'm sorry if it's rude to ask," Bella began in a heartbreakingly small voice, "But last time we talked you mentioned you'd been changed in Chicago that year?"

Edward grinned, she'd been listening to him. "I should've said my adoptive father, Carlisle. My sire."

"You've stayed with your vampire sire all these years?" Bella gasped, using the proper idiom for the first time without shying away from her newly acquired supernatural heritage.

"I've strayed from Carlisle in the past, but the man will always be my father. He was a doctor before his change, now he volunteers his training and aid to those in need. As does his wife, Esme. They both raised me through immortal adolescence," Edward smiled again. "Although, I'm not sure if i've completely outgrown those tendencies."

"Is that what you'll be to me? A father figure?" Bella felt uncomfortable asking the nature of their blossoming alliance.

Edward pondered her question for a drawn out minute. "I'd like very much to be your friend, Bella Swan," he smiled, it barely touched his eyes.

The two wary vampires sat in silence for nearly an hour before Bella decided to continue their initial rooftop inquiry. "What did Alice show me back in Jasper's apartment," she asked, vividly recalling her nuptials to Edward.

Edward blanched. "It was entirely inappropriate, Bella. I'm deeply sorry. She had no right to influence you in such a way."

Bella felt her cheeks flush with the blood of her latest victim. What if Edward had a wife already? What if he was repulsed by the mere thought of spending a lifetime with someone like her? Bella's eyes floated to the mantle once more, landing on a black and white framed photo of Edward's family posed around a chaise lounge. Presumedly, his adoptive parents were standing in the back, while Edward shared the lounge with a lovely blonde woman. Their posture was casual; however, she couldn't imagine many photographs from that era allowed displays of affection.

"Was it a vision of the future?"

"Yes and no. Alice has the unique ability to see many possible outcomes for our actions," Edward sighed.

"Did she see what happened to me last Friday?" Bella muttered, eyes locked on Edwards family photos.

"She did not," he sighed once more. "We both believed that I had left you for dead, a deed that will haunt me until I die."

"Thanks for not killing me, I guess," Bella laughed, hoping to lighten the somber mood that had settled into the room. Edwards lips turned into a sinister grin, the shadows from the fireplace causing him to look like a storybook vampire for once. "Can you tell me more about your kind?"

"Our kind," he corrected. "What would you like to know?"

"Can you turn into a bat? Will my hair look like this forever? I don't know, dude. Just give me 'Undead: 101'," she patted the carpet next to her, hoping Edward would accept the invitation.

"No bat stuff," he smiled, sliding to the floor from the brown leather love seat opposite the fireplace. "Your hair will grow very little, though cutting it requires diamond shears or something industrial strength. I haven't bothered," he said, gesturing to his unkempt mane.

"You've more than likely noticed a strong aversion to mortal food, we only survive on blood. Animal or human, it's your preference. I tend to enjoy both in moderation to keep my _carbon footprint_ low," Edward's smirked at his joke, though it fell on deaf ears. "What else?"

Bella considered opening the floodgates. The thought of bombarding Edward with every question that passed through her head was appealing, though she had years of endless days to unravel the mysteries of her sire. She opted to stick with biology.

"I've, um, _fed_ twice," she blushed again. "How exactly does that whole process work? And what happens if I accidentally turn someone, _well_ , like us?"

Edward paused, hoping to find an eloquent explanation for the horrific dining habits of vampires. Deciding the words simply didn't exist, he opted to show his new vampire houseguest what she'd surely experienced twice already. Edward tilted his head to the side, moving closer to Bella with baited breath. "When a vampire chooses his pray a few things happen, Bella." He inhaled slowly, taunting his feral nature to rear its ugly head.

"Like what," Bella said, her own breath faltering at his close proximity.

"See for yourself," he hissed.

Bella's head whipped in the direction of Edward's looming frame. His once green eyes were dark as pitch, a black hole she could only recall from a feeble human memory. She gasped while gazing at his snarling lips. His perfectly white teeth were barred, set to latch onto the pale skin of her neck. What Bella realized next caused fear to manifest in the pit of her stomach; Edward had fangs. Small ones, barely noticeable to the human eye, but without question his canines had grown into two razor sharp points that were poised inches from her face.

"Is that what I look like," she whimpered, her gaze never faltered from Edwards teeth as he backed away.

"I like to think you wear them better," he laughed, his voice low and sultry. "Think of them like arousal, they'll only appear when you want to bite someone."

"Do you want to bite me?" Bella asked, examining his unaltered appearance despite the distance Edward had put between them.

"Isn't that how we ended up in this mess?" he uttered, only a touch of humor coloring his tone.


	6. Chapter 6: No Matter Where We Go

Chapter Six

 **No Matter Where We Go**

* * *

Shortly after eleven the next morning, Bella found herself lazing on Edward's leather love seat beneath a large bay window filled with grey sky and Seattle's typical lone stratus cloud. Her eyes were glued to a large fracture running through the ceiling's plaster, but all she managed to register was the memory of her housemate's sultry gaze and full lips inches from her face. In her human life, she'd never been one for sadism, let alone blood play; but the memory of Edwards cool breath and teeth mere inches away would prove helpful on those boring, rainy days ahead. Well, sunny days, in Bella's case. She wasn't entirely sure about a Vampire's relationship with sunlight, but every piece of literature offered the same cautionary tale.

To Bella's chagrin; however, these thoughts were never meant to be shared with the object of her desire, just replayed on an endless loop behind her eyelids. Edward and Bella had enough on their respective plates, neither needed a fling.

 _"Isn't that how we ended up in this mess,"_ Edward had muttered the night before. Meant to be a half hearted joke regarding his actions and motivations at the time of her change, Bella couldn't help but feel hurt by his callous response to the most intensely intimate moment she'd experienced since her break up with Jacob. Of course Edward didn't know this, but his stupid vampire powers of seduction had somehow tied an invisible, white hot wire around around her sluggish heart. The wire tightened with every retreating step. A few silent minutes passed before Edward finally excused himself to another room.

The distance between Bella and Edward did prove to lessen the suffocating electric currant. Relieved and slowly learning to breathe again, Bella soundlessly crawled onto the nearest couch. She'd continue to lay there for the next eight hours recalling the single most thrilling moment of her new undead life.

Around noon Edward's loafers could be heard on the wooden stairwell. Bella sat at attention, the buzz of electricity sparking to life again. He'd changed his clothes and found time to shower, his warm, spicy scent filled the room. Bella swooned involuntarily.

"Alice has informed me that Jasper is worried about you," his tone remarkably formal. "She thinks it's best if you return for a while. At least, until we can think of a way to… uh."

"Kill Bella Swan?" She offered. Edward flinched.

"You could disappear?" He said. "Elope with a wealthy business man in Montana. Cross the border north and set up camp for a few years? You would have to leave this life behind. Those options are better than attending your own funeral or being wanted in a Volturi witch hunt." Edward's brow furrowed, his expression troubled.

"Have you encountered the Volturi?" Bella asked, feeling a pang of despair come from Edward's direction.

"I have," he muttered, taking a seat opposite Bella. "When they learned of my gifts, they tried to lure me into the guard. I was never the militant type."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her mind conjuring pictures of Edward surrounded by riches and monetary things.

"I'm a telepath, I can read minds just as easily as a pedestrian eavesdrops. Coveted by the Volturi for nearly one hundred years. Similar to Alice's gift, though hers requires a physical connection."

Bella's posture became rigid. He'd heard every single one of her embarrassing thoughts since the moment they'd met. He'd listened to every swoon, every drugged out hallucination, every lapse in control that resulted in a lost life. Edward immediately noticed the frantic change in her body language.

"I'm almost certain you have a power too, Bella." his tone hopeful. "It piqued my interest while you were human. It's more pronounced now that you are like me."

She sat with baited breath. "I've heard stories about Vampires that cannot be read by our leader. We call them shields. If you possess this gift, you're safe from all psychic Vampires, including myself."

"You can't hear my thoughts?" she exhaled, experiencing extraordinary catharsis. "How was Alice able to get in my head?"

"I'm not entirely sure, though, I do have a theory," he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "I am no expert, but I'd love to introduce you to my father and hear his opinion."

Bella zippered Edward's boyish expression and sheepish posture, a stark contrast to his very formal and regal attitude. Was this his strange way of asking her to meet his family? Was she imagining all these quirks to ease the crush she'd developed on her sire?

Bella chose to avoid the question altogether and circle back to her good friend Jasper. "Can you give me a lift back to Jasper's apartment soon?" she asked, smoothing out the blood speckled pajamas she'd spent the night in. "And maybe a change of clothes would be nice."

Edward ignored his previous line of questioning and quickly agreed, leading Bella up the creaky staircase off the den to the second story of his home. Shelves, ancient books, and trunks covered every inch of wall space; though not a particle of dust could be seen amidst Edward's curio collection.

"I could never keep this place clean," Bella mused.

Edward chuckled, "you would be thrilled at the number of tasks you can accomplish with an extra ten hours in your day and super speed." He stopped at a heavy wooden door to the left of the stairs. "This is my room," he said, softly pushing the door open. She noticed the smell of fresh linens and vacuum lines on the deep purple rug.

Bella stepped inside, her eyes following the ornate carvings of the wooden queen sized bed in the center of the room. It stood below a colorful pane of stained glass, a relic from an age older than Edward. The room was scarcely lit, but Vampire eyesight required very little illumination to adjust comfortably.

Edward pulled open the doors of an oversized armoire to the right of his bed, a small collection of simple clothing pieces were tucked inside. He grabbed a dark green sweater and a pair of black lounge pants before presenting them to Bella.

Instinctually uninhibited with her body from years of touring, Bella quickly shed her soiled pajama set to the ground. Edward closed his eyes after stealing a glance at the shocking number of tattoos Bella had collected, but remained steadfast with his offerings in hand. She swiftly dressed again, taking the time to roll the extra foot of fabric on each limb to an appropriate length.

"How do I look?" she said, striking her best front woman power pose.

Edward opened his eyes, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You ought to keep that sweater. It suits you." The boyish grin had returned.

* * *

Traffic was light on Forty-fifth Street as Edward's beige Studebaker raced toward the University District. Within minutes Edward had expertly parallel parked one street over from Jasper's apartment.

"I'll be in the area if you have any trouble," he assured, unlocking the doors. Bella refused to move an inch. "Bella, Jasper's your friend. You've proven that you can handle this. He'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know I don't fuckin' want to hurt him," Bella huffed, clearly becoming agitated. "But what if he cuts himself? or I can't control _it."_

"Focus on me," Edward said, giving Bella's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll keep watch from the roof. You'll be able to hear me from that distance.

Bella took a deep breath before exiting the car. She walked the mere city blocks to Jasper's front door, a long neglected buzzer system barely managed to function as she rang Three-R.

 _"Who's it?"_ Jasper's anxiety bleeding through the intercom. _"Bella?"_

"It's me, Jazz. I'm…" The obnoxious buzzer interrupted Bella as Jasper unlocked the door.

The third story rear unit door was open by the time Bella had reached the final landing. Jasper sat on the couch with his arms crossed, his slipper clad feet tapped in silence.

"What's the deal?" he shouted. "I took you in to get you off dope and you disappear for _who knows what?"_

"I'm not high, Jasper," Bella whispered. She shuffled into the apartment and closed the door behind her. The thudding of Jasper's rage fueled blood pressure was burdening her grip on reality. A light tapping on the roof reminded her of the lone comrade she'd acquired in this new life. The cord wrapped around her heart pulled upward. "I stayed with a friend in Laurelhurst."

"Oh, Laurelhurst? Are the junkies heading east now? Raiding the medicine cabinets of old millionaires?" Jasper's venomous tone caused Bella to shrink away. He was right. Junkies disappeared randomly, they couch-surfed, they weathered the streets; Bella was no different than a common drug addict. Except she was dead and craved blood, not smack.

"I ran into an old friend from college, Jasper. I promise. I'm fine, I'm sober," she held her two palms up as a sign of her surrender.

"Which friend?" Jasper sighed, humoring Bella's story.

"Edward," She quipped.

"Does Edward own a home there?"

"Uh, yes. He inherited a family estate," she said, proud at how little she'd deviated from the supernatural truth.

"I'd like to meet him," Jasper declared, reclining on the couch and switching the television on. Jasper's hostility hung in the air like smoke, but the initial confrontation was over. Though, Bella could tell her roommate would have more to say at a later date.

Bella sauntered over to the couch and settled in next to Jasper. He flipped through channels mindlessly until he settled for an old Jersey Shore marathon, a show they frequently watched together in college on the very same black leather couch. The two friends chuckled and occasionally broke the silence to reminisce. Bella attempted to hide her lack of reliable human memories, but Jasper was hard to fool.

An hour later Jasper ordered pizza and beer, casually alerting Bella to the fact that he was expecting company soon. "The boys are coming over. Angela should be tagging along."

Bella blanched, but remained couch-bound. Her eyes wandered to the front door and the fire escape, "Do you have any cigs, Jazz?"

"I do, but you need to go outside to smoke," he said, lightly tossing a pack of Marlboro 27's to Bella.

"I was gonna burn one on the fire escape."

"Yeah, that's cool."

Once outside, Bella habitually lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. She pined for the buzz of nicotine. The dizziness, the coughing, the peace and warm content that would swarm a brain after a long drag from a cowboy killer. She sighed.

Edward had left his rooftop perch a half an hour before, though Bella could still feel him nearby. Keeping tabs, no doubt. He was crazy to allow such a troubled newborn Vampire to face her friends. She'd proven untrustworthy after she mercilessly stole the lives of two humans without a second thought. Even still, her wandering brain fantasized about bloodshed and the feeling of Edward's fangs on her skin. She was unraveling.

Ten minutes or an hour could have passed before Bella was alerted to the presence of her bandmates. Carefully crawling through the window, Bella waved with the arm of Edward's oversized sweater wrapped around her hand. Raven haired Angela swept in for a long overdue hug and was met with Bella's cold, rigid body. A nearly inaudible growl escaped Bella's lips. Angela recoiled immediately, but kept her signature cheery grin in place. "Girl, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Angie," Bella said, breathlessly.

"Way to show up to practice, Bells!" Eric hazed. "But don't worry about it, we got a new gal." Mike lightly smacked his bandmate on the back of the head. "She sucked. Canned after one practice. Glad to have you back, Swan," he said shoving half a slice of pizza into his mouth.

Bella smiled sadly. Was this the moment she resigned from Paper Dolls? Would she pack up her belongings in the dead of night, leave a note professing her love for a rich man in Laurelhurst, _elope to Montana,_ and forget Isabella Swan had ever existed?

"Actually... Hey Mike? Can I call a band meeting right now?" Bella said hesitantly. Her anxious fingers effortlessly dug into the bottom of the window sill.

"Don't tell me you're quitting the band, Bells. I was kidding," Eric countered. Jasper came to Bella's defense.

"Dude, _what the fuck?_ We all knew this was going to come out at some point. Bella's very sick, no thanks to you idiots. Support the choice she makes." Jasper's complexion was turning ruddy with anger.

"Thank you, Jasper," she muttered. "You've been great to me this week and I didn't deserve an ounce of it." Jasper attempted to discredit her claims, but Angela reached out a hand to quiet him. "I think it's best if I get professional treatment."

"I agree, Bells. But how expensive is rehab?" Mike said, ever the unwavering realist. "I'd pay your way in full if I could, but none of us are prepared for uninsured medical care."

"I could ask my parents," Angela piped in. "They helped my cousin out with his pill problem, completely saved his life."

"You've all done too much for me the past few years. You've consistently tolerated the fallout of a space cadet completely out of touch with reality," Bella said, sadness for her lost humanity coloring her tone with an eery, omniscient nuance. A simple night in with her best friends had turned into an autobiographical eulogy. Isabella Swan was dead, Paper Dolls would be forgotten with the next wave of rock roll. Tragedy was all she saw anymore.


	7. Chapter 7: Nightrider

Chapter seven

 **Nightrider**

* * *

A full week had passed since Isabella Swan had received her membership into ranks of the undead. Surely, a highly coveted position by thirteen year old girls and a niche community of goth adults; not for twenty-three year old determined creators with record deals and a healthy appetite for substance abuse.

Since her resignation from the band, Bella had spent many hours analyzing different scenarios in which Vampirism could be offered to her and why she'd, perhaps, choose this fate over a normal human lifestyle. The pros of being a living, breathing human woman far outweighed the cons she had explored.

Frustrated with her restrictions, bloodlust, Edward, and lack of any mortal creature comforts, Bella slammed her fist on Jasper's dining table. The wood splintered slightly, Jasper sighed from the living room.

The two unlikely roommates had spent nearly three days dancing around each other. Simple greetings would be exchanged as Jasper drunkenly stumbled home from the House of Dirt, or in the early afternoon when he'd pack a small bowl in the living room to counteract his hangover.

"What broke?" Jasper said, refusing to forfeit his spot on the love seat.

"The table," Bella mumbled, tossing the physical copy of her 'pro/con' list into the recycling bin. "It was a piece of shit anyway, I'll get you a new one."

"Is Daddy Warbucks going to pay for that, too?" Jasper jeered. He'd come to understand Edward as Bella's sugar daddy, despite never actually meeting him.

"His name is Edward and he'll be here soon. I want to accept this guy's offer, Jazz. I think it's legit." _Much better than watching my friends attend a phony funeral,_ Bella lamented; understanding that if Jasper wasn't on board with her plan for 'rehabilitation', she'd be forced to take more impactful measures and ensure not a soul would come looking for her. A fraudulent funeral was the simplest way to confirm this.

"If you're gonna be a bear, be a grizzly," Jasper said, his cocky drawl infuriating Bella further.

"What the fuck, dude. That doesn't even make sense."

The pair fell into their usual silence once again. Bella began setting up dual columns for yet another list of advantages and disadvantages of being a night-walking bloodsucker, and Jasper continued watching Cannonball Run. He broke his silence to act out the famous line he'd used on Bella minutes before.

The faulty intercom system notified Jasper of Edward's arrival minutes after the credits rolled on his film. Bella had quietly been listening for the familiar hum of his vintage car, she'd noted his approach from miles away. She added ' _awesome hearing_ ' to her list of pros.

Jasper leisurely tidied his under furnished living room and sauntered over to the door, taking his time to buzz their guest inside. Jasper was often passive aggressive and methodical in his quest for power. Fortunately, Edward possessed the ability to analyze his thoughts.

Bella quickly scrapped her newest handwritten list into the bin and began to comb her fingers through her hair. A nervous habit she'd acquired after becoming acquainted with the star of her near constant daydreams. A small knock on the door had Bella instantaneously on her feet. Edward's spiced scent entering the apartment had her bolting for the door.

"Hello Bella," he said, a large grin touching his eyes. "You look lovely today."

Bella, hardly one for receiving or reciprocating compliments from a handsome man, chose to fidget with her corduroy mini skirt and avoid eye contact for fear of revealing any small Vampire quirks to Jasper. "Hey Edward."

"How're you, I'm Jasper Whitlock. Thanks for making the drive all the from Laurelhurst," Jasper said snidely, his disdain for wealth bleeding into his proper southern upbringing.

"Edward Cullen. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," Edward said, his tone and handshake equally firm.

"Cullen, eh?" Jasper mused. "Any relation to Cullen, comma, Alice?"

"Actually, yes. She is my sister," Edward said, his voice smooth and unperturbed by Jasper's preliminary interrogation. "Not by blood, but we remain close nonetheless."

"She's mentioned her brother a few times. Says you really know how to get in her head," Jasper said, his tone of voice shifting into a more approachable, affable one. "Please, uh, make yourself at home, Edward. Would you like something to drink?"

"I am quite alright, Thank you."

Edward's Grecian bust worthy features were starkly juxtaposed to Jasper's dreary apartment, a fact Bella noticed in spite of her efforts to remain focused on literally anything else. Edward gestured for Bella to take a seat first. She opted for the windowsill as it made for an easy exit when her lust for blood or Edward became all encompassing. Edward made himself comfortable on the love seat.

"So, what's the plan here?" Jasper began, jumping headfirst into the minute details. "Ship Bella off to some celebrity rehab and mark our calendars for two months from now? I'm no doctor and forgive me, I empathize with Bells when I say I'm guilty of boozin' too hard with the nose beers, but how exactly does this process work?" Jasper said, dragging a kitchen chair into the living room and taking a seat.

"My father, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, offers private rehabilitation," Edward explained. "He requires inpatient treatment. Bella can retain her autonomy and ultimately learn preferable coping mechanisms for her troubles." He glanced at Bella to flash a sly wink before turning back to Jasper. "I've yet to see a case fail. I include myself in that statistic. Carlisle was my foundation throughout adolescence."

"Your sister speaks very highly of your father and I'm sure the services you're offering are top of the line, but let's get down to brass tacks here; How is Bella going to afford this?"

"Jasper, don't worry about money right now," Bella chided, signaling him to stay away from the topic of funding.

"Neither of us have any, Bells. My funds are tied up at the bar, the guys are scrambling to find gigs for quick cash without you at the wheel. I'd just like a quote to see what ballpark we're in."

"My father has expressed interest in treating Bella pro bono, you need not worry about the _brass tacks_ ," Edward responded, the cockney rhyming phrase sounding endearing amidst his professional tenor. Jasper would be hard pressed to deny Edward anything at this point; yet another perk to being a flawless and charismatic Vampire. Bella noted this for her 'Pro Vamp' inventory.

"Why would he do that?" Jasper said, his tone developing an accusatory edge. Jasper was a prideful man, after all.

"Jasper," Bella warned, irritation and bloodlust clouding her focus. Edward could sense her distress.

"No, Bells. What does this dude want with you? I fuckin hate to be rude, Edward. _Why_ are y'all taking this on?" Jasper stared at Edward expectantly, his icy glare convincing Bella that she'd be researching shady funeral homes within the hour. Staunchly perched on the rotting windowsill, her hands found the fingertip sized grooves she'd made days before; her increasing anxiety splintered the wood further.

Edward sat on the couch as though he'd begun to daydream halfway through Jasper's third degree. He blinked once, his attentive gaze returning to the present conversation within seconds. "Alice is a great fan of Bella's band," he said, his inflection similar to an anchor reading a teleprompter. Or a telepath reading his psychic sister's mind. Bella heard Alice expertly pounce onto the fire escape. "And my father tends to be quite charitable. What does this indisposition stand against kismet?"

It was Jasper's turn to be silent. "Y'all Cullens have a funny way of saying shit." He held Edward's gaze for thirty excruciating seconds before turning his attention to Bella. "Is this really what you want, Bells?" Jasper's fatigued expression and hunched shoulders cemented Bella's decision to answer in the affirmative.

"Yeah, Jazz. I need to go away and figure things out."

Edward smiled back at Bella. Jasper sighed, but offered an encouraging smirk. He rhythmically tapped his hands over his knees. "Alright champ. When do we get this show on the road?"

"I plan to leave tonight," Bella said meekly "I'm packed, I don't have much."

"Can I tell the guys? Are we allowed to see you? Or call?" Bella's heart broke, she knew this time would come.

"I'll tell them," Bella lied. "Give me some time to get settled. I'll be around if you need me," she continued, hoping to dissuade Jasper from forging a spectacle of her disappearance. "Don't worry about me, Jazz."

Edward left alone shortly after a terse apology from Jasper for his defensive behavior. He graciously accepted, understanding Jasper was fiercely protective of his friend. A quality Edward appreciated.

"Pretty boy's sweet on you, Bells," Jasper joked, locking the door behind Edward. Bella stilled. "If you want this treatment to work, you might want to think about avoiding Dr. Cullen's prodigal son."

"Edward's just an friend, and I'm hardly in a position to get _involved_ with anyone," she countered. The words felt off on her tongue, Bella wasn't wholly convinced her relationship with Edward would remain strictly platonic; at least, _not on her part._

Bella was beginning to realize Vampirism immortalized more than her skin and bones. Every emotion, desire, and pavlovian response she'd learned as a human had been elevated to inordinate levels. Drug abuse paved the way for poor impulse control, her appetite for sex had become overwhelming, and the subsequent frustration from a lack of willing sexual partners left her feeling despondent and agitated. Bella's thoughts were giving her whiplash when her breakneck speed and super strength failed to ruin everything she touched. Vampirism felt like an oversized magnified mirror was being held inches from her body and soul, forcing her to become aware of and agonize over every emotional whim and physical imperfection.

"I'm proud either way, bud."

"It's the only option," Bella sighed sadly.

* * *

At six o'clock Bella packed her bass guitar and trusty backpack into Jasper's parking ticket infested Chevy. The twenty minute drive to Edward's Laurelhurst mansion remained quiet, save for the echoes of large rain drops and Jasper's racing heart. Bella held her breath. Flames enveloped her throat when Jasper leaned over the center console to hug her goodbye and quietly sobbed when his prehistoric rust-bucket roared away from her.

Edward was at Bella's side to collect her bags instantly. "He loves you, Bella. This will keep him safe."

Bella recalled the vision Alice sent upon their first meeting. Jasper, pale and undead, holding hand with Alice Cullen. Her languid heart rate spiked with rage. "Keep her away from him," she growled.

"I've tried," Edward admitted, defeat coloring his voice. "What kind of guitar do you have?"

Bella's black irises peered at him through wet lashes. "I'll show you if we can go inside."

They hurried inside as a large crack of thunder shook the house, the sound causing their immortal ears to ring.

Edward disappeared up the stairs with her belongings for less than five seconds before returning to a soaking wet Bella in the foyer. "I've just put your things in your room. We can go the the shops tomorrow and purchase whatever you might need."

"You don't have to be so accommodating," Bella said, a small smile gracing her lips. Edward felt his heart warm, a feeling he was beginning to attribute to Bella's endearing presence.

"Nonsense, we're roommates."

"Like Louis and Lestat," she joked.

"Are you insinuating that I am Lestat?" Edward guffawed, his right hand resting on his chest . "Do I strike you as desperate and lonely?"

"Desperate? No. _Lonely?_ Edward, you live in this beautiful home all by yourself."

"You are incorrect." Edward noted. "You live here, too"

"Well, yeah. For right now," Bella grimaced. "I could be Lestat in 'The Queen of the Damned' universe. I'd be a killer undead rockstar. No pun intended."

Edward chuckled, but his smile failed to reach his emerald eyes. An uneasy stillness creeped into the atrium. Bella shifted her weight, her waterlogged boots squelching on the carpet. Edward's eyes cast downward. "Your room mirrors mine, only to the right after the first landing." He said, gesturing behind him. "I have a few errands I must run, Bella. Welcome home."

Edward soared directly past Bella and had his Studebaker purring down the street sooner than she could blink. He seemed impossibly fast; moving at speeds that Bella certainly hadn't clocked herself. She grinned, feeling safe and cared for in a way she hadn't felt since early childhood.

The rooms Bella had not seen in Edward's house were immaculate. Large house plants in ornate planters, vases and family photos on every surface, hardwood floors flowed seamlessly around cozy cobblestone fireplaces; and Edward had somehow forgotten to mention he'd supplied Bella's room with every top of the line personal electronic. Her bed stood tall beneath an arched window; deep burgundy blackout curtains hung on either side. Several guitars and colossal bookcases teeming with hundreds of records sat next to a gilded armoire. Bella had never seen a more posh bedroom, save for Edward's down the hall.

She ran to the bed and heaved her body onto the plush red duvet, the frame shook upon impact. She relished in the feeling of a luxurious bed despite the knowledge she'd never dream under these sheets. Memories of lazing for days in her California apartment crossed the back of her eyelids, the far off recollection of her dormitory twin cradling her into sleep after a night of partying earned an evocative swoon. Her day dreams were interrupted by a quiet vibration emanating from her bedside table. She sighed and surveyed the caller ID.

"Edward?" she inquired. Leisurely rolling back onto numerous pillows, she nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Jasper is on his way, Bella. I cannot ensure I will arrive first," his conventionally smooth tone hurried and fraught.

"What the fuck?"

"Jasper located some notes you had discarded. It appears he's in the process of piecing together our secret," he sighed. "She was able to convince him to avoid contacting the police. Isabella, I'm sorry. I have no control over the consequences of his knowledge, he'll be given an ultimatum tonight."

The phone dropped from Bella's frozen hand. She laid in stark silence. Leaving Jasper and the band behind was intended to save their lives, but now her toxic undead sentience had poisoned Jasper's livelihood. He'd either die or live an existence ruled by bloodlust and darkness.


	8. Chapter 8: A Pearl is Not a Diamond

Chapter eight

 **A Pearl is Not a Diamond**

* * *

Jasper resorted to slamming both fists violently into Edward's front door upon his arrival. Bella stood at the top of the stairwell glaring downward, mentally willing her best friend to turn around and drive home. The banging continued with renewed vigor. "Bella!"

Five minutes passed and Edward's car had yet to be heard entering the main road to the secluded homestead. Jasper began to scream nonsensical things about murder and immortality. Bella, anxious from the thunderous noise, soundlessly sprinted down the stairs and unlocked the door, prepared to brave Jasper's fury in exchange for his cooperation and silence. She opened the door wide enough for only her head to peek through.

"Isabella Marie Swan, did you fuckin' kill someone?" Jasper screeched; his raised fists bloody and raw. Bella immediately held her breath, but the smell managed to trigger acute bloodlust. She drew the door back slowly, her brain switching gear from prey to predator. "Alice and I are done. The Cullen's have got to be part of some weird cult. We don't fuck with this type, Swan. Please," he begged, "just come with me."

Jasper extended his right hand as an olive branch, Bella could only recognize pale skin soaked in sweet smelling blood. Bella swallowed a mouthful of metallic tasting saliva. "I can't," she croaked.

"Of course you can, Bells," he said, his eyes quickly scanning the dark perimeter of Edward's yard. "Why else would you leave those lists?"

"Just leave, Jasper. You're not safe here." Bella was running out of air.

"If I'm not safe here, you aren't either," he sighed, becoming impatient. "Look, is it drugs you want? Are they getting you well so you'll do their bidding?" Jasper's assumptions were entirely off base, which proved to be the safest place to avoid a dirt nap. Though he hadn't taken into account his proximity to an erratic newborn Vampire.

"Leave," Bella exhaled, her reserve air finally spent. The smell of Jasper's blood taunted her nostrils. She could feel her sharpened canines descending, a sign that her friend's lifespan would drastically decrease in the next few minutes.

Edward's stylish Studebaker suddenly came to a screeching halt on the cobblestone driveway, without fail, he was posted atop the porch in seconds holding Bella in place. She snarled in his face.

"Let her go, Edward," Jasper roared, he slammed his body into Edward's broad shouldered torso only to rebound and hit the equally unforgiving pavement. He felt as though he'd hit two brick walls. Edward ignored the fresh scent of human blood and took to whispering sweet, reassuring words to Bella. All to no avail, Bella's eyes were locked on Jasper's brow. The white skin had split open wide upon contact with Edward's marble shoulder.

A loud growl escaped Bella's twisted lips, her fangs on full display, eyes black as pitch. Jasper's vision blurred, his head swimming with the strange words Bella had left in her mysterious lists. His blood ran cold, though his heart was beating twice its normal rate.

"Bella?" he whispered, his distressed mind conjuring every possible explanation. "It's not possible. You're a…"

"Vampire," Edward confirmed, finally regaining control of Bella with the assistance of his sire bond. She calmed, though still clearly agitated from being denied the one luxury their kind desired. "We'd be more comfortable if you washed up. Perhaps we can talk inside."

"We…?"

"My family, Bella, myself," Edward stated.

"A-Alice?" he stuttered, terrified to face the young woman he'd recently broken up with.

"She will be here shortly. Please, clean your wounds. I cannot promise this calm will last. There's peroxide in the bathroom cabinet" Edward gently swung Bella over his shoulder and disappeared down the front walkway, leaving the door ajar for Jasper. He clambered inside without hesitation.

"Isabella, listen to me," Edward chastised. She barred her teeth and lunged forward. "These moments of frenzy are imperative, you need to breathe through your thirst. Jasper stands no chance of living another day if you cannot control these urges."

Bella inhaled Edward's scent, knowing the spicy bouquet would cleanse her palate and mind. She felt dizzy.

"Would you prefer to stand out here and collect yourself whilst my family attends to Jasper?" Edward offered.

"No," Bella said through gritted teeth. "I need him to understand. I'll be fine." She briskly straightened her predatory posture. "C'mon, Edward. I give you permission to take me out if I misbehave," she impishly jeered, Edward's signature fragrance relaxing her sneer into a dopey grin.

"My apologies, Bella. I'd normally never roust a lady," Edward said, a fragment of mirth shimmering behind his backlit sable irises. The two Vampires stood in silence as they listened to Jasper whisper a calming mantra to the bathroom mirror. "He'd suspected someone died, but he certainly did not expect the _undead."_

"I made a list of all the reasons why being a Vampire isn't entirely shit," Bella explained, her eyes fading into a vibrant brown. "You know, the normal stuff. Strength, speed, immortality; the stuff I would've greedily accepted as a human a few weeks ago," she paused, a contemplative sigh escaping her lips. "I may have included killing in both columns. And not necessarily _killing,_ just blood. It's better than sex or drugs. Or Jacob," she added, realizing the shitty ex-boyfriend from nightmare's past was wholly and truly far from her mind.

"Who's Jacob?" Edward asked.

"My ex," she admitted blankly. Her human memories of the greasy haired rock and roller becoming harder to grasp with each passing day. Especially when her sire was nearby. "He broke up with me before I left for tour this last time. Kinda kickstarted my final human depression spiral. I walked into the alley that night because I thought I'd seen him."

Edward nodded, but didn't offer any further questions about the ex-lover. "Are you comfortable going inside? My family will be arriving soon."

"Alice?"

"My parents; Carlisle and Esme. They've come to appraise and provide damage control. Carlisle spent many years living alongside the Volturi. With his assistance, we're hoping to diminish any threat the ruling class might feel due to our expanding coven. Our numbers are quite unusual."

"Does Jasper need to be changed? Can't we erase his memory or something?" Bella asked, suddenly desperate to save Jasper's mortality. "His family is large and his obligations run pretty deep. He won't be able to walk away without someone noticing." Bella's eyes cast downward, another pillar of humanity crumbled under the burden of understanding. She'd withdrawn from every facet of mortal life within a few days of concocting a madcap plan. The world would not miss Bella Swan. Paper Dolls would dissolve into a never ending sea of garage punk bands. The sun would rise the next morning, an unwavering antihero in her superhuman swan song.

"I'm afraid the answer to your question is out of my hands," Edward said. "Carlisle will offer the most diplomatic conclusions."

"Son, you speak so highly of me," a handsome blonde man appeared behind Edward, his ice blue eyes soft and affectionate. The man had a sweater clad arm wrapped securely around the waist of a gorgeous woman with caramel curls. Her curves and beauty were timeless, Bella noted. "You must be Isabella?"

"She prefers 'Bella', dear," the woman corrected her lover. "I'm Esme, mother hen for these troublemakers. I have heard wonderful stories from my son and daughter." She stepped away from the blonde man and daintily took Bella's hand in her own. "This is my husband, Carlisle. We're so pleased to welcome you into our family."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Bella smiled nervously.

"Edward tells me you play in a rock band," Carlisle said, simultaneously stepping forward and clapping his son on the back. Bella detected a covert English lilt to his voice.

"I do," she replied. " _I did_. I'll start playing again once I learn to stop breaking guitar strings."

"Oh dear," Esme chuckled. "I wish you could have seen how many piano keys Edward destroyed in his first year. Though, I think Emmett out tallied us all in newborn brute force."

"The Albany house will never be the same," Carlisle added, his attention gripped by a far away memory of their _'children.'_

"Will Alice be joining us sometime this century?" Edward interrupted, his gaze shifting back to Jasper. Who had recently vacated the washroom and found comfort on the family room love seat.

"For a psychic she tends to err on the side of tardiness," Carlisle replied. "I believe I hear her just down the road."

Sure enough, Alice's yellow corvette pulled into Edward's long driveway seconds later. Her face was sullen, her posture unsure and defeated. Bella's ire dissipated, Alice was similarly devastated about the outcome of their present circumstance.

"Esme, Carlisle," she greeted, refusing to keep eye contact with either parent. "Bella, Edward."

"Alice, my love," Esme wept, her arms winding around her daughter's delicate looking shoulders. "We'll find a happy ending, I'll see to it."

"Jasper's contemplating bolting out the back door," Edward muttered, ignoring his family's reunion. "Perhaps we should relocate from the lawn?"

"Sharp as ever, Edward," Carlisle chastised. "Flex those muscles often, son. Good looks fade." Edward chuckled, shaking his head in denial of some unspoken sentiment. Bella reveled in how jovial the Cullen family could be after nearly a century of life together.

The coven of Vampires walked at a human pace toward Edward's house. Once inside, Jasper stood at attention with a wooden crucifix clutched in his bandaged palms. "Alice," he politely bowed his head, though never removed his wary eyes from his undead hosts.

"Jazz, I'm so sorry. You weren't meant to find out," she wept. "I'm so sorry."

"Do y'all mind taking a seat?" he asked, collapsing onto the leather two-seater once more. "I'm just really fuckin nervous and I'd feel better if everyone had a fuckin' seat."

Edward exited the room, but quickly reappeared with three dining room chairs. He positioned them in a semi circle, effectively blocking the room's exit. Carlisle and Esme sat hand-in-hand on the opposing love seat.

"So y'all are _Vampires_?" Jasper voice faltered on the latter word. Disbelief and intrigue warring for his attention. "Blood, bats, fangs, coffins? The whole shebang?"

"No bats, no coffins," Alice countered. "We exist on blood, mostly from animals. We don't sleep, Jazz. I don't really have insomnia," the guilt in her voice utterly palpable.

"Bells, are you buyin' this shit" he turned to his oldest companion. Bella's eyes were vibrant, feral, and pitch black; her skin impossibly whiter and without a single flaw. He stared at his friend in awe. Isabella Marie Swan; twenty-three year old socialite and musician, west coast punk icon, and his beloved chosen sister had been irrevocably changed.

"Listen to them, Jazz. We're trying to save your life," Bella gasped. She'd forgotten to take a deep breath to hold before entering the cramped room.

"Mr. Whitlock, my name is Carlisle Cullen," the good doctor interjected, understanding Bella wasn't in any condition to be interrogated as long as Jasper's blood ran freely. "I implore you to suspend your sense of reality for one single moment. A moment without judgement or the need to understand _'why.'"_

"Yes, sir," Jasper said, his tone militant. His proper southern upbringing, once again, battled with his hatred for authority upon meeting his Vampire girlfriend's father.

"Due to a string of unfortunate happenings, Bella has received the dark gift," Carlisle explained. "A fact for which we are regretful. We can discuss the details of these circumstances, if you like. Though, I need you to understand one very important fact," he paused once more, his expression patient and pensive. Jasper nervously shifted in his seat, fidgeting with the ancient crucifix. "My family does not make the rules of our kind, young man. Our leaders reside in Italy, their laws predate humanity as we know it. Many are barbaric and fail to include the ways my family inhabits this world."

"If we don't tell him, do you have to change him?" Bella erupted, her full Vampire nature springing to the surface once more. She clutched at her throat to dampen the flames that accompanied the breath she'd taken.

"Change who?" Jasper shrieked, the crucifix tumbled to the floor from his bloody hands.

"Bella, I'm afraid it's too late. Alice and Jasper have already committed a mortal sin," Edward answered, taking Bella's hands into his own. "Are you feeling well?" Bella ignored her sire's concern.

"Please calm yourselves, nothing will happen tonight," Carlisle commanded. The room stilled. "Jasper, you need to understand relationships between humans and Vampires have been forbade for many centuries. My daughter, Alice, she found something in you that, in her mind, warranted breaking the law," Carlisle sent a disapproving, yet gentle, glare to his kin. "Unfortunately, you've acquired the knowledge of our secret. The mandated punishment for which is death or _damnation."_

Jasper inhaled sharply.

"We have a few options, however," Carlisle continued. "My family, Bella and Edward included, can relocate. Leave you to your mortal life, your family and friends. We promise to at no time reappear. You will be sworn to secrecy." Jasper's eyes briefly flickered to Alice. "Option two: you can join our coven, son."

"Can I speak to Alice and Bella privately?" Jasper inquired.

Edward began to negate his request, but Alice mentally reassured him Bella and Jasper would remain unharmed. He loosened his grip on Bella's wrists and disappeared with his parents, regret and some unrequited affection clawing at his chest. "I'll just be outside," He whispered to Bella from the tree line.

"I had no idea, Bells," Jasper lamented. "Leave it to us, kid. Gettin' all wrapped up with Vampires in a big city like this. When did you... Well, how. Fuck. When?"

"The night of the House of Dirt show," Alice answered. Bella was still struggling to stay planted in her seat. "I brought Edward because I knew you'd be busy all night. He's normally so in control, more than the rest of us. Things just got out of hand. I blame myself."

"When did you know, Bella? I knew something wasn't right, but your behaviour didn't seem that odd. All things considered."

"The night I met Alice," she croaked, the flames licking her throat once more. She opted to breathe through the pain, focusing on Edward's lethargic heartbeat several yards away. "I accidentally killed a man that day, that's when Edward found me and explained what happened."

"We never intended to harm Bella," Alice reminded him. "She may not be human, but her future looks promising for assimilation back into human life. Like the rest of my family."

"As Bella Swan?" Jasper countered.

"Maybe someday. Our surnames change with some frequency," she explained. "I was born Mary Alice Brandon in 1905."

Jasper's blood drained entirely from his face. His lips trembled as he tried to form a coherent reply.

"Jasper's never been one for older women," Bella joked, feeling uncomfortable as their third wheel. Her bloodlust raged on, however. Another reminder to save the humor for later; Jasper's humanity had one foot out the door.

"Is everything else a lie, Alice? Are you really a fashion copywriter? If I choose you, _whoever you really are,_ does what we have go away?"

It was Bella's turn to pale. _Was Jasper genuinely considering becoming a Vampire to stay with Alice?_ He continued to stare at her expectantly. Bella swallowed the venom pooling in her mouth. "Jazz," she warned. His eyes briefly wavered. "I know you're whipped, dude. Are you really willing to give up the venue? Our friends? I can never go back, man. I'd give anything to have the options Dr. Cullen offered. I'm not right in the fuckin' head, man. Trust me, you don't want this monstrous half-life." Bella heard Edward huff, then a loud crack followed by the crashing of barren tree limbs.

Bella's lengthy outburst and Alice's wounded grimace redirected Jasper's attention. Lips formed into a hard line and unkempt brows drawn together, Jasper resembled an angry version of Rodin's _'The Thinker.'_ "Are you calling my lady a monster?" Chivalry reared its ugly head within Jasper. "Pretty boy probably saved you from a dirt nap, Swan. You oughta be grateful you're clean and in one piece."

"I oughta fuckin' kill you, Whitlock," Bella sneered. The corners of her vision blurred with a crimson vignette.

"I fuckin' dare you, Swan." The two friends stood face to face. All thoughts of Vampire versus human tabled. This was an argument between two college buddies. Bella's anger over Jasper's nearsighted mindset eclipsed her all encompassing thirst for blood. Jasper was feeling more confusion and anxiety than bonafide anger, but his pride would never allow him to back down from a challenge.

"I'm gonna leave before I lose my sense and drain you dry," Bella whispered, her voice gravelly and severe. She took a long exposure mental picture of her last human companion, a memory her faultless brain would never discard. Whichever life he would come to accept, she'd always remember him with uneven stubble, curly blonde hair, light blue eyes, and a fire in his heart. "Goodbye, Jasper. You've been a really great friend."

Bella disappeared into the foyer, silently climbing the stairs two steps at a time. The sound of her sobs drowned the remainder of Alice and Jasper's discussion. He left the house shortly before midnight, hopefully to never return.

Quarter after one, dainty footfalls approached Bella's door. The stranger knocked twice, Bella groaned in response. "What?"

"It's Esme, honey." The door opened, revealing Esme's enduring exquisiteness. "I've sent the rest of those fools away so we can have an honest chat, dear."


	9. Chapter 9: All The Things You Are

Chapter Nine

 **All The Things You Are**

* * *

Esme briefly glanced at the vintage wind up alarm clock on Bella's bedside table as she stroked the sobbing woman's chestnut brown locks. Her newly adopted daughter's anxiety and fear nearly mirrored her own the weeks following transition from mortal to immortal. Esme had never forgotten the feeling of her long term human memories fading with every sunset, and the grief that followed the last drops of blood leaving their transient vessel.

"You know, Bella," she began, her tone comforting and motherly. "I consoled Edward following his transition. Carlisle and I hadn't realised his mind-reading habit immediately, which resulted in Edward learning entirely too much about human expiry." She laughed. "It took months to convince the poor boy he wasn't schizophrenic."

Bella's sobs quieted into small hiccups. Her brown doe eyes smiling at Esme through long, black eyelashes.

"Pretty girl, you don't need to cry. You've won the lottery with our family. Come, come, tell me what's in your head. Has my boy been treating you well?" Esme straightened her tea length skirt and prepared for Bella to lament her innermost turmoil. Esme's energy was infectious, her cheery smile and soft features thawing the iciest of hearts. Bella's punk rock exterior enthusiastically surrendered the minute Esme sashayed into Edward's home.

"He's been... helpful," Bella admitted, thinking of his emerald eyes, his scent, his tall frame. She quickly discarded her X-rated line of thought with a sharp inhale. Bella Swan was seldom smitten. "He explained the whole Volturi situation well. Only minor bloodshed."

"You give him some purpose after all this time," Esme added, pride burning behind her hazel irises. "He's been alone for a very long time, Isabella."

"How long has Alice been alone?" Bella asked, thoughts of Alice and Jasper's exchange flooding her mind. "Does she really expect Jasper to give up everything for her?"

"Oh, Bella. Whoever loved that love not at first sight?" She swooned. Bella's brow furrowed. "Marlowe was rumored to have been stabbed after fraternizing with Vampires. He wrote of our secrets and was deemed blasphemous by the public. I'm partial to calling it _love._ He'd mated with a Vampire. _Or so legend says..._ "

"Mated?" Bella questioned. She'd only heard the word spoken in the context of Discovery Channel documentaries.

"We're fossilized," Esme explained, her patience unwavering. "As we appeared on our final human day. Our emotions, passions, and fears frozen for eternity. _Mate_. They called it _'Theia Mania'_ in ancient greece. Madness from the gods. Vampires harbor the ability to fall irrevocably in love, but only once."

"Is Carlisle your... _mate?_ "

"Heavens yes, dear. My sun in the morning and moon at night. That man hangs the stars for me," she gushed. Esme seemed to glow with thoughts of her partner.

"Are Alice and Jasper...?" Bella's brain seemed to disconnect as another brutal reality set in. The downcast smile on Esme's lips answered confirmed her suspicions. "Does Jasper know?"

Esme silently nodded, her long caramel curls cascading over her shoulders. "He was reluctant to believe until Alice shared her gift. He nearly ran! A very stubborn man, that Jasper Whitlock." She paused, a thoughtful sigh escaped her lips. "Though, I'd choose my husband every time if that is any consolation."

"Must be nice," Bella sighed, burrowing further into the many pillows atop her bed. She wondered if Edward had ever been mated. He'd been _alive_ for over a century. Surely he'd found comfort in some gorgeous Vampire in the past hundred years. The lack of prompt answers surrounding Edward's love life produced physical pain in her chest. She compared it to a cramp or a heart attack. She suddenly wondered if Vampires could suffer from a myocardial infarction.

Esme's laugh chimed like bells. "You'll see, Bella. You're strong and young. The world is your textbook. Everything will work out just fine."

* * *

The next morning Bella 'awoke' to Edward softly knocking at her door. She spent the better part of her early morning replaying Alice's vision of their nuptials. She'd learned of the unpredictability of those visions, but she was addicted to the butterflies she felt seeing Edward's tailored tuxedo clad arms wrapped around her waist. The butterflies that preceded seeing Edward in real life proved to be more so debilitating.

"Come in," she called. Her guest shuffled inside, his head low and eyes wary.

"Are you well?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she responded curtly. She took in his disheveled hair and wrinkled attire. His scent was muddled with pine. He'd been hunting.

"Jasper has made his decision. Please know that I tried my best to persuade him. But I've read his mind, his decision is sound." He ran a dirt coated hand through his bronze curls. "We've decided it's best to push his transition date into next year. Another holiday with his family. Not to mention, both of you disappearing would raise flags with the police; human and Vampire alike."

"Sounds like a plan," she teased. A loaded silence smothered the room. Her mind wandered to Esme's explanation of Vampire mating. Curiosity bested rational thought. "Have you ever been mated?"

Edward choked, an accidental response he thought lost to eternity. His eyebrows raised, a million questions flickered through his brain. A woman had never caught him so entirely off guard. " _Uh..._ no."

"Do you want to find your mate?" Bella's heartache and curiosity battling for dominion. She'd always been a masochist.

"I am content for the moment," he confided. "I know she will find me of her own accord." Edward smiled sadly, his eyes tracing the bold American traditional artwork covering Bella's pale legs.

His answer neither cured nor fractured Bella's heart further, though the electric hum roared to life between them. "I bet Alice is thrilled."

"She's appropriately peachy," he exhaled, absentmindedly tousling his curls. "Jasper's apprehensive. He's bound to Alice by the Volturi sire agreement, but he cares for you deeply. He's troubled by your loneliness. Aware that both you and Alice desire companionship."

"What do you mean? Is there more to it than some epic love story? The only companion I need is my bass."

"It's really nothing, Isabella," his voice was startlingly formal and defensive. His outward signs of anxiety alerted the predator in the heart of his pupil. Her eyes turned flat black. "You shouldn't dwell on it."

She stared Edward in the eye with a smirk, challenging him to divulge the information she'd asked for; or face the wrath of her sharp tongue and trusty bass axe. A rogue wave of rebellion overtook Bella's consciousness, her actions barely her own. Edward instantly recognised the moodswing, having spent many years living amongst the majority of his family as newborns. Bella was not his first rodeo and positively would not be his last. "I'll ask Esme," she threatened.

Edward cringed at the thought of his mother explaining the corporeal workings of Vampire mating to Bella. His turn of the century upbringing forbade such talk outside the traditional marriage bed. The rational, twenty-first century Edward disagreed. He'd become aware knowledge was power in regards to a young woman's sexual pursuits. He body, her choice; as it were. Unfortunately, the rational side of Edward had disappeared the night he'd laid eyes on Bella's junoesque body under the colorful stage lights.

"Can I promise to enlighten you on the subject at a later date?" he smiled; dialing his charm to maximum, succumbing to the whiplash brought on by her shifting temperament. Bella's eyes returned to their usual chocolate brown, her smile illuminating the room. Edward yearned to hear his disciple's thoughts in that moment.

"You better make good on that promise, Cullen," she said, her tone playfully menacing. "Err... What's your _real_ name?"

"Masen," he said. "Edward Anthony Masen the third, of the 'Evanston Masen's,'" He sauntered further into the room, stopping a foot from the bed. Bella tapped the empty space next to her lounging body. He did as she instructed, under the spell of her gaze.

"It suits you," Bella said. Edward beamed. "Will I have to change my name?"

"Bella Swan suits you. Though, you can do whatever you like."

The electric currant snapped, its warmth settling in Bella's stomach. She involuntarily drew herself upward so she would be eye level with Edward, his sated light green gaze replaced with a smoldering virescent hue. Her right hand raised to touch his freckle spattered cheekbones, as if being controlled by an invisible marionette. She held her palm to his deliciously chiseled jaw, tenderly cupping his face. He closed his eyes, a faint growl escaped his lips. This excited Bella further.

"Will you kiss me, Edward? I just want to know what it feels like... um, you know, like _this._ " she breathed, her voice demure. She wasn't sure how long she could stay in the dark about her new nature. As a human she'd been uninhibited after the age of eighteen, a fact that led to her latest demise. Edward inhaled her scent, dizzying waves of lavender clouded his judgement. "Please?"

 _"Bella,"_ he moaned. Virulent images of his teeth piercing the delicate skin of her throat flickered in his brain like an old horror film. Bella felt a similar impulse, only she desired her fangs deep in his jugular as Edward gave way to his deeply rooted primal urges. The tension in the room wafted like smoke, suffocating both occupants.

She cautiously crawled onto her knees, afraid hasty movement would spook the man responsible for her depraved behaviour. "Stay still." Bella placed her lips on Edward's. His body briefly stilled under her touch, but primal lust overrode rational thought within seconds.

Bella's frenzied hands became lost in Edward's windblown locks; his found purchase on her shapely hips. Edward's mouth tasted like blood, allspice, clove, and cinnamon; Bella's handcrafted drug of choice. Her fangs descended and she suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to claim her sire once and for all. She bit his lip. Edward paused, he quickly stumbled toward the door. The whole exchange lasted less than five seconds.

A rivulet of blood welled on his lip, the fruits of his latest hunting trip. Bella licked her lips, trace amounts of blood created the illusion of rouge. Edward swallowed, his untamed lust for blood and Bella entering uncharted territory.

"Is it always like that?" Bella asked, referring to generic Vampire relations. Her breathing was laboured despite zero physical requirement to breathe.

"From what I've experienced," Edward responded, misunderstanding the double entendre packed into her question. Bella hoped that Edward would admit her touch was special compared to the rest. Unbeknownst to her, he _was_ swooning because of her kiss. However, he was raised as a gentleman and a scholar first and foremost. He only revealed as much as he was willing to lose and never used a fair lady for his own pleasure. "I apologise if that was improper."

"No, Edward... I'm sorry. Does your lip hurt? I don't know what happened, I couldn't control myself." Bella sat back on her heels, her posture defeated.

"Welcome to being a newborn," Edward sighed. He quickly turned heel and disappeared behind Bella's door as it closed. Visitors had arrived; one possessed a steady heartbeat. The taste of Edward's blood on her tongue revoked any draw to the human houseguest.

After a cold shower in her deluxe en suite, Bella ventured downstairs into the barebones kitchen to greet their guests in her most casual of outfits: forest green coveralls. Unsurprisingly, she was met with Jasper, Alice, Carlisle, and Esme. The Cullens were casually gathered around a pale marble island, the centerpiece of the freshly renovated room.

"She's alive!" Jasper announced, throwing his arms out in true Frankenstein fashion. The motion sent a waft of Jasper's blood in Bella's direction, she stiffened but remained planted in the threshold. Only the burning in her throat threatened her sovereignty, a vast improvement from the evening before.

Bella's eyes briefly flickered to Edward's lips; whether she was inspecting for a wound or chancing a glance at her newest obsession, she couldn't be entirely sure. "Hey," she sighed, managing to perform an awkward curtsy-wave for her new Vampire _'family.'_ "Can I chat with Jasper alone?" she asked in Edward and Carlisle's general direction, restating Jasper's question from the night before. Her sire's stony gaze shifted to Alice, whose response was an encouraging smile and nod.

"You may, Bella. Shall we?" Carlisle answered. His tone dominant and wise. His youthful and ethereal appearance seemed an odd match for such a commanding presence. The man most certainly had an impeccable bedside manner. "Jasper, we'll only be in the garden." They disappeared with the breeze through the kitchen's french doors.

Jasper's bright blue eyes dropped to his boots. "Bells, I won't be hearin' a lecture," he warned, his twiddling thumbs and racing heartbeat giving away his true feelings to Bella's keen senses. "I can't, in good conscience, abandon my girlfriend and best friend because they're _different_."

"Different?" Bella scoffed. She couldn't believe Jasper was comparing humans and vampires like apples and oranges. "Jasper Whitlock. I... I'm fuckin' _dead_ , dude. Don't throw away everything for a girl."

Jasper shook his head in disgust, his blonde curls falling over his face. "Alice isn't _just_ a girl, okay? Maybe one day, when you get your fuckin' head out of your ass, you'll understand what I'm talking about."

"What about the House of Dirt?" Bella countered, realising his prized establishment would be a soft spot. Jasper's hunched shoulders dropped further. "What about your 'Ma?"

Jasper's mother was the light of his life. A true Southern Belle, born and raised in Texas, Mary Whitlock instilled responsibility and respect in her eldest son. They remained close despite their coastal difference. "I've got two months to settle my affairs," he replied, his chin quivered at the thought of his elderly mother.

"Must be nice," Bella jeered. "I lost the band, my family, my _friends_. What I wouldn't give to just have one more human day of sunshine and weed and _motherfucking sleep."_ She slammed her fist onto Edward's white marble countertop. A spiderweb of cracks appeared instantly. "I can't even play guitar."

Jasper's eyes widened at Bella's impressive display of strength, a reality of Vampirism he hadn't yet witnessed. "I'm here for you," Jasper gulped. "I'm not leavin'."

The two friends fell into silence after Jasper's declaration. There wasn't much Bella could do to change his mind, the man had always been steadfast. His relationships, goals, and friends never suffered when Jasper was focused. He'd failed Bella the night of the House of Dirt show and quickly shouldered that guilt. His reparations would be paid in the loss of human life: his own.

"Do you have any weird powers?" Jasper asked, his eyes quietly zippering Bella's impervious body. His question was meant to lighten to mood. "Ali can see the future, your boy can read minds... From the looks of it you have the ability to glare daggers."

Bella scoffed. "He isn't _my boy_."

"I'm sure he's wounded by your words, darlin'," Jasper drawled, pointing in the direction of Edward's tree filled property line.

"Edward's just keeping me out of trouble. I'm sure Alice explained what'll happen after you're changed," Bella said, referring to the multi year warranty every sire inherited with their fledgling.

Jasper furrowed his brow. "We haven't gotten to the nitty gritty," he admitted.

"I'll be Edward's roommate until I've got a handle on this _undead_ thing. I'm talking _years_. Apparently these control freak Italian dudes force people like us to stay with our Vampire _sire_ ," she explained, her eyes glazed over as she relayed her personal horror story. "Which, in my case, is probably for the best. Self control was never my bag."

It was Jasper's turn to frown. He'd understood immediately that Bella'd been altered physically the night of her change. He could sort of grasp that she craved live blood. Though, he'd yet to fully comprehend the emotional and mental challenges she'd faced as a result. At the very least he had Alice, an unwavering source of love and support, to anchor his transition into the supernatural world. Bella had woken up alone in Jasper's crowded one bedroom alone. She'd been keeping up an impossible facade to assimilate into his life with a massive undead chip on her shoulder. Bella had committed homicide mere hours before _hanging out_ on his couch. The incalculable ' _nitty gritty'_ he'd avoided discussing with Alice the previous evening flooded his mind, his knees buckled slightly.

"Have you been eating?" He gulped, unsure how to delicately poise a question about Bella's dietary needs. "Or drinking, rather?"

"I've only killed two people, if that's what you're asking."

"I guess that's _good?"_

Silence filled the room once more. Jasper shifted uncomfortably under Bella's intense, unblinking stare.

"I got work at four, kid. Gotta be headin' in soon to set up the bar. Ricky called in sick last night, apparently buying a new PS4 constitutes as an illness," he forced a small chuckle. Bella shot him a one sided smirk. _He was trying._ "Call me if you need anything, Alice said she put my number in your phone."

"Will do, champ," she joked. Their friendship was mostly effortless, despite the rollercoaster-esque circumstance. "It's not too late to run."

Jasper let a ten watt smile fill the room, simultaneously shrugging and shaking his head. "It's too late for me to turn my back on Alice. Dude, that mating thing they do is intense."

Bella frowned, allowing her long brown locks to cover her the look of sorrow on her face. He'd been drinking the Cullen Kool-Aid.


	10. Chapter 10: Triumph of Disintegration

Chapter Ten

 **Triumph of Disintegration**

* * *

Experiencing a disappointing amount of creative direction in her life or art, Bella had resorted to writing stream of consciousness journal entries in an empty moleskin she'd procured from Edward's massive library. On the first page she'd attempted to write a song or a poem or _something normal_. The result had been a simple melancholy ten line rhyme scheme that screamed common teenage depression spiral. Bella finally tried journaling after tearing out the first eight pages in annoyance of her inability to write any material whatsoever. Her punk prowess was gone. She's been stripped of her crown.

Edward noticed Bella's agitated mood grow more desperate over the course of the seventy-two hour period following Jasper's departure. She'd avoided fiction novels and television like the plague, instead keeping to her tiny journal. He'd invested in several pens forged from pre-war era steel years back, the only tool that could withstand the furious scrawlings of a Vampire. She'd received a few in her nightstand as anonymous peace offerings. The book's pages would surely run out within the next day, so he made sure to keep her bedside drawer stocked with a month's supply as well.

The weather had been fairly sunny for late October, so the unlikely roommates stayed confined to the walls of 3027 West Laurelhurst Drive. Edward anxiously tidying every room Bella passed through; and Bella logging the seven hours she spent breathless, still as a marble statue. She'd deduced her Vampiric state could endure hours doing _absolutely nothing._

On the rare occasion Edward and Bella crossed paths, she would act oblivious and wander away just as quickly as she came. The tension in the home was thick. Edward decided to break their impasse on of the fourth day of shared solitude. He gently knocked on the study's door frame, the door had been propped open with a pile of books. In his right hand he held Bella's bass guitar, he'd replaced every broken string and knob with expert care. "Would you like to play with me?"

Bella smiled at the sincere invitation, utterly forgetting the run on sentence she'd been conjuring. "I'm sure you could find someone better suited to jam with."

Edward chuckled. "And pass up the once in a lifetime opportunity to _jam_ with the illustrious Bella Swan?"

"I heard she died. No one's seen her."

Edward felt the weight of Bella's sadness from across the threshold. "Most would say a posthumous record is quite lucrative. You're welcome to use or break whatever you like in my music annex."

"I'll think about it," Bella mused. "Thank you." She turned her attention back to her notebook. Edward dejectedly excused himself to his bedroom.

As the sun set a few hours later, he listened as Bella tip toed over to the attic stairs. She soundlessly drifted up the narrow steps and slid the white pocket door aside. Edward's laborious heart beat and uniform breathing could be heard emanating from his bedroom just below, a fact Bella processed and then pushed aside just as quickly. If he wanted to interrupt or eavesdrop on her musings, he absolutely had the right to do so. Though, Edward had made it known he would always be a gentleman to Bella. Surely he'd understand the intention behind the absence of invitation.

Bella gawked at the eight hundred square foot 'A' frame music gallery. Edward had painstakingly invested in every instrument lusted after by the modern musician; a 1913 Steinway upright, 1968 Fender Telecaster, Theremin from 1930, even a three piece Gretsch drum kit circa 1950. His collection was impeccably cared for and dust free. The vast collection surely put Edward amongst the top ranks of old men with disposable leisure time and endless capital.

She walked at a human pace to the glossy black upright, suddenly longing to hear the four chords infiltrating her conscious played in real time. The matching wooden bench creaked as she sat on the edge. Her finger's ghosted the keys, careful to provide the gentlest of touches to the yellowed ivory. It was tuned well, every key appeared to be in working order. She fumbled for _G-sharp-minor-seventh_ , then _C-sharp-seventh. F-sharp_ and _E-flat-minor_ followed in a staccato pattern based in four-four time. Easy to transpose for the guys. She frowned.

 _"The last ten days have been a motherfucker,"_ she said rhythmically, repeating her off color arpeggio. _"I didn't know if I'd survive."_

At that moment she felt inspired to take on Motown, her fingers tapped the same chords but adopted the down beat as well. _"What is the flaw in just running away? Running away fixes everything. how can I, why should I stay? Just to view the triumph of disintegration?"_ Bella sighed and relinquished her hands into her lap. She felt inspired by the juxtaposition of a delicate, uptempo piano piece and a downhearted libretto. She wanted her bandmates to hear the newest direction she'd locked onto; if only to ask Mike about fills and tempo changes, or see the delight in Eric's face when he'd effortlessly rip through some dramatic guitar riff on the first try.

Instead, she'd be stuck playing the same staccato chords to herself in a lonely attic until her 'rehabilitation' had concluded. "Lestat had the right idea," she lamented. Her fingers found those familiar keys and played from the top. One, twice, three times, ten times; Bella felt her fingers coming down more forcefully on the keys with every new measure. Not enough to crack the ivory, but enough that Edward finally looked up from his dense read: 'Finnegan's Wake' by James Joyce.

 _"How can I, why should I stay? Just to view the triumph of disintegration?"_ She kept the tempo steady, but quickly switched into a spry bridge that arched back into the simple tune she'd started with. Bella's sterile surroundings flooded her mind with despair and panic. She felt an invisible barrier heave over her prefrontal cortex like a fitted sheet. She had to leave. Now.

"Bella?" she heard Edward call from his room. His bedsprings squeaked with subsequent movement. She silently thanked the universe for his inability to read her mind. Her breathing stilled, his foot falls followed suit. They'd entered a stalemate. If Bella bolted for the front door, he'd surely catch her. If Edward entered the attic and saw the panic etched on her face, he'd never allow her out of his sight.

Bella decided to act fast. Sliding the closest window frame aside, she gently kicked out the frayed screen and jumped into the garden below with ease. As a fellow Vampire, she knew Edward would follow her scent like some kind of supernatural bloodhound, so she opted to dive into Lake Washington and swim west until cold blue water gave way to land. The lack of air would also halt any attacks on unfortunate pedestrians in her travels, a plus if she was to remain inconspicuous. She'd also have to stay out of the minds of humans. Though, in a city as large as Seattle, that would prove to be an impossible task. Especially since Edward was certainly on high alert for her whereabouts.

Five minutes was all it took for Bella to swim the two miles from Laurelhurst to the Union Bay wildlife preserve. A familiar haunt from her time as a college student, Bella crept through the tall grass and stared into the starless sky attempting to recall specific memories of smoking joints on the shoreline with Jasper. Her mind was as murky as the water just twenty yards to the south.

As Bella impatiently waited for her threadbare clothes to dry, she listened to the heartbeats of students leaving campus for the evening. She figured from the complete lack of sun, it had to be after seven in the evening. _A time for Vampires to hunt_ , she thought.

As if God himself had listened to her thoughts, a pair of young women hurried down the secluded dirt path Bella laid claim to. They were chatting about a House of Dirt Halloween party they planned to attend that evening. An event that Paper Dolls had been offered to headline in her previous life. Bella grimaced once more. Remnants of her humanity hung out of reach, like tattered streamers following a party. She saw them, was annoyed by them, but ultimately could do nothing about them.

"Happy Halloween!" one of the girls shrieked at Bella as they passed by.

"I like your costume," the other mocked, referring to Bella's lack of festive garb. Bella vision skewed red instantly.

"What the fuck did you say to me?" She said, her voice bitterly cool. She seem to at once disappear and reappear, only to block their desired path. Her eyes drained of color and her fangs descended, a telltale sign that these women were experiencing their last moments on earth. Their human eyes were unable to decipher these changes, but they sensed danger rolling off Bella in waves.

"No-nothing," the snarky girl muttered, her eyes glued to the rocks at her feet.

Remorse tugged at Bella's subconscious, but she tabled the thought to focus on the pounding heartbeats inches from her lips. She desired information before she drained them dry. "Who's playing tonight?"

"W-what?" the first girl stuttered.

"The HoD show? Who's headlining?" Bella tapped her foot impatiently.

"Paper Dolls, I think." Recognition crossed the girl's face. " _Hey,_ aren't you the singer? _Dude!_ I'm a _huge_ fan."

The girl's distraction provided the opportune time for Bella to seize both their wrists in her ironclad grasp. She systematically drained every last drop of warm, delicious ambrosia from their _now_ lifeless bodies. Bella smiled at her handiwork, she hadn't felt this powerful or sated in weeks. _"Fuck you, Edward,"_ she murmured as she quickly undressed the girls and disposed of their bodies in the lake.

Finding her current attire to be unfit and too _realistically_ bloodstained for a public Halloween show, Bella exchanged her shorts and tank top combo for the snarky girl's high rise leather trousers and eyelet mesh cropped shirt. The garments clung to her curves perhaps too tightly for everyday wear, but she'd fit in impeccably at the House of Dirt on Halloween night. She opted to wear the other girl's classic black Dr. Martens, a Bella Swan staple.

The human blood coursing through her veins allowed for very little regret and entirely too much confidence; a lethal combination that had her gleefully racing for the House of Dirt mere minutes after disposing of her tragic victims. Bella's human memories of the venue's location were cloudy at best, but she was confident she'd arrived when droves of party goers enthusiastically formed a line on an unassuming side street. The weather had dropped a few degrees with the sunset, but this didn't prevent the guests from dressing in their skimpiest Sunday best. Bella chuckled at a group of women huddling for warmth around a bottle of Fireball.

Confidently strutting past the line in her borrowed costume, Bella approached the burly doorman. "I'd like to go inside," she commanded.

"Yeah? And so does Dracula Jr.," the man joked, pointing at some kid's poor attempt to disguise his braces with Vampire teeth. "Back of the line, sweetie."

"I'm with the band."

"Sound check was an hour ago. Back of the line," he repeated blankly, he hadn't even met her gaze.

Bella felt the familiar red vignette creep into her vision, but quickly pushed all thoughts of homicide far from her mind. There was certainly a time and place to feed; now was not the time and Jasper's place of business could not be the place. She swallowed her venom and chose a slightly _sweeter_ angle.

"I know, I'm _so_ sorry," she said, her ethereal brown eyes finally locking with the bouncer's. He stiffened under her gaze. "I lost my phone and couldn't reach my bandmates. I'm such a space cadet," she laughed, dialing the sultry charm to maximum levels. The man could hardly resist, almost as if he'd been hypnotized by the scantily dressed Vampire. "I'd _really_ appreciate it if you'd let me in."

"Uh, I... Uh," the man stuttered.

"Oh, thank you, sir," she said, placing her pale hand on his black t-shirt clad chest. "You've made my night."

Brandishing a wicked smile, Bella deftly pushed her way past the crowds of young concert goers. Her bloodlust was hard to ignore, but not impossible seeing as she'd been lush with her recent meal. She cozied up to the bar, a lazy grin exposing her fangs.

"Well, well, well..." a familiar voice drunkenly droned. "Vampirella in the flesh. Those fangs are sick, dude."

Bella blanched, but quickly remembered Halloween night easily explained away any discrepancies between mortals and immortals.

"Playing hooky?"

She turned left to see her most beloved bandmates slamming beers and shots at the bar. "Something like that," she teased.

"Does Jasper know you're here? Last I heard he locked you up and threw away the key," Eric slurred, sliding a crumpled five dollar bill across the bar.

"Yeah, Bells. Are you sure this is okay? Trying to get sober at the House of Dirt is like... it's like. Well, It's not good," Mike added, slamming two drink tokens on the bar as well. "But, like, do you need something to drink?"

"You two are hammered," she laughed. "and, no, I'm fine. _See_ , I can say 'No'."

"To life! Salud!" Eric cheered, thrilled to see his best friend thriving sans her appetite for substance abuse.

Bella grinned, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow in amusement. "To life!" Eric and Mike downed their shots of whiskey like professionals, simultaneously setting the empty glasses onto the Budweiser branded drink well.

"What are we celebrating?" Jasper asked, appearing from the other side of the packed bar. His eyes were unfocused and he swayed ever so slightly. Jasper set up four shots of Jim Beam on the bar mat. He effortlessly threw back his allowance of whiskey and slammed the glass onto the floor. Bella had only seen Jasper in his current state a handful of times. The memories were hazy, but she knew, without question, Jasper was absolutely annihilated. Feeling truly comfortable and in her element for the first time since D-Day, Bella grabbed the remaining shot, clinking glasses with Eric and Mike as she drew it to her lips. Inhibition had to be checked at the door at punk shows, the members housed little judgement in their hearts and welcomed all with open arms. Even an undead bloodsucker who would most likely need to find a way to discreetly rid herself of their social lubricant.

"Our Bella!" Eric yelled, heaving his High Life into the air with a white-knuckled fist.

"We're gettin' the band back together!" Mike howled in agreement.

Jasper sobered considerably upon seeing Bella's alabaster face. She flashed a cheeky smile, her fangs on display. "Oh shit, oh shit..." he whispered. "I'm _so_ fuckin' dead."

"Hey Jazz," Bella purred. "You tryin' to catch flies?"

"I'm tryin' to catch a break, Swan. Where's Edward?" he said, leaning over the bar to avoid nosy bar guests. "You can't be in here."

Mike and Eric grimaced at their friend's serious demeanor toward Bella. "Dude, cut her some slack. She's _fine,"_ Mike yelled. He grabbed Bella by the arm and hauled her deep into the crowd of dancing guests. Jasper attempted to jump over the bar, but was stopped by countless customers charging the empty space the trio left behind. "You're playing with us tonight," Mike stated.

"C'mon, let's get you a bass. Eighty-six Misfits cover band, we're pulling out the Pixies setlist. You remember, right?" Eric asked directly to Bella. She beamed, feeling Ferris Bueller levels of pure joy and excitement. She didn't need Edward, or undead politicians telling her what do to. How was disobeying the Volturi or the Cullens any different than abandoning her own Mother and father and the United States Government? She'd crossed and burned that bridge years ago. _Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it._ Or something like that.

"Uh, yeah. Like I'd ever forget a single note Kim Deal wrote?" Bella rolled her eyes.

"Fuck yeah, man. This is gonna be sick," Mike yelled, once again cheersing his beer with Eric. Their drinks rained down on Bella's hair.

They wandered into the dimly lit green room. Cocaine covered every flat surface and cigarette smoke filled the air. Bella breathed deeply, enjoying the tingle of nostalgia associated with the smell of gasoline and tobacco. Whiskey burned on her tongue, but sloshed uncomfortably in her stomach. Mike began furiously scrawling a new set list on a beverage napkin while Eric asked every available bassist if he could borrow a bass and cab for the headlining set. The second band to play, 'Mum', happily agreed to leave the appropriate gear onstage for Paper Dolls following their set. The men lovingly fist bumped and returned to their respective cliques.

"You want some blow, babe?" a young groupie dressed like Cher asked, bumping into Bella with her bare shoulder. She held a house key in her right hand and a fifty bag in her left. "Oh my god, are you Bella Swan? Holy fuck, Ashley. Ashley, babe, get over here."

"Uh, no. I'm okay, thank you," Bella said, shifting uncomfortably. She'd never once denied cocaine.

The groupie shrugged and stumbled over to the girl she'd referred to as Ashley. The pair gossiped over how perfect and unbelievably cold Bella's skin was, how she didn't seem _quite_ human. They giggled as they realised how silly the assumption was. Bella breathed an unnecessary sigh of relief.

The first band, 'ShakeWave', started their Buzzcocks cover set with 'Ever Fallen in Love'." _Cliche, yet classic,_ Bella mused.

Mike continued to hover over the cluttered coffee table where he'd been weighing the pros and cons of starting the set with 'Where is My Mind'. After railing three consecutive lines of cocaine, he jumped to attention. "Okay," he began, swaying slightly on his feet. "Look at this and give me your honest opinion." Mike shoved the stained white napkin into her empty hands.

Bella scanned the offensive item in mere seconds and nodded. With a single glance she'd recalled and memorized every chord and harmony with savant like accuracy. To perpetuate her fallible human facade; however, she kept her eyes locked on the paper until Mike snatched it back and shoved it into his pocket. "Okay, we need more beers. Who needs a beer?" Mike yelled over the booming amplifiers in the next room. "One, two, four... Okay, I'll just buy a thirty rack." He stumbled into the chaos of the decrepit ballroom and slammed the door behind him.

Nearly an hour and three beers later, Paper Dolls stood poised to take the stage for the final cover act of the evening. The crowd was energized and overserved, thanks to Jasper's inexperienced bar staff. Each patron had eagerly paid ten dollars at the door to witness the hottest garage punk outfit in Seattle, especially since it was rumored Bella Swan left the band weeks ago. Many of the rumors Bella overheard amongst the crowd centered on some grandiose tale of overdose or pregnancy. No mention of the undead or Vampires, which further fueled Bella's confidence to live out the final years of her stolen human youth until she was forced to disappear into obscurity. The Cullens weren't her legal guardians, she'd get the law involved if she felt the need to.

'Mum' began the first chords of their final song; a _thrashy_ version of Monster Mash that excited the swirling pit of brawny costume clad fans. Bella faintly smelled stale blood mixed with sweat and beer. Fortunately, the scent was mostly revolting. She mused that Edward probably struggled with bloodlust because he was a moody recluse. She very clearly didn't need his assistance. If anything, he was in need of some assistance from her.

A warm hand suddenly clamped down on her mesh covered shoulder. She growled, turning to face the offender with bared teeth. Jasper's blue eyed expression displayed fear momentarily before returning to steadfast anger. "You do realise everyone can see _those,"_ he hissed, referring to her ivory weaponry.

"It's Halloween, Jasper. I've seen, like, forty Vampires tonight."

"Well, you're about to see seven more. I called Alice. The Cullens aren't thrilled with your Houdini act," Jasper said, checking his watch. "They'll be here soon."

"Jasper, why are you such a square?" Bella asked, her tone sarcastic and pouty. "I'm just trying to have fun with my friends. You didn't seem to have a problem last time we played here?"

Jasper scoffed. "You weren't a fuckin' _bloodsucking murderer_ last time you played here."

"A few days ago you called me _'different?'_ Why the change of heart?"

The frontman of 'Mum' thanked the crowd for their patronage, effectively cutting off any chance Jasper had to respond. He introduced the Paper Dolls to a thunderous applause that seemed to last for an enternity.

"Bella, let's go tune up," Eric called. He passed off the borrowed bass guitar like a baton and bolted to the stage.

"Gotta give the people what they want," Bella smirked. She took her time approaching the stage, like a queen on her coronation day. The bass guitar was her crown, the microphone her scepter. She swung the leather guitar strap over her shoulders and plugged into a massive Fender bass cabinet. The movements were second nature; second only to her new primal Vampiric side. She played a few chords, finding it easy to tune the instrument with her precise hearing. The trio fell into a brisk jam session before Bella signaled for silence.

The lights dimmed and Bella stepped to the microphone. "Hello," she began, her voice sultry and commanding. "It's Halloween and this room is fucking Gigantic," she said, beginning to pluck the opening bass part for the 'Pixies' hit solo of the same name. The sea of moving bodies cried louder, but somehow Bella could only hear the familiar pounding of Edward's heartbeat, like a metronome in her subconscious. She wondered if the Cullens had arrived and if they planned to do anything to jeopardize the show.

All doubts disappeared; however, when Eric chimed in with a screeching guitar solo. Mike joined shortly after with his signature goofy grin and steady rock beat.

The set proved to be a critical success. Bella introduced each song with a smug grin and confidence only a seasoned performer could execute, while Eric continuously hinted at the famous 'Where is My Mind' riff to rile the crowd before playing expertly chosen deep cuts. Beer cans hit the walls and bits of costume pieces landed on stage. Shots were often passed forward from the bar, a fact Bella was mildly apprehensive about. The first shot had only made her feel like retching, But the expectation to partake hung in the air. The crowd chanted her name repeatedly until she managed to choke down exactly four ounces of whiskey. She instinctively knew the offensive liquid would have to be expelled immediately after the lights dimmed.

Before their final cover, the song everyone had patiently waited for, Bella took a minute to stare into the faceless mass of people. Something in her believed wholeheartedly this would be her final foray into the world of live music performance and she needed to lock this moment into memory for sanity's sake. She figured the Cullens had certainly arrived sometime during the thirty minute set. Vampires moved quickly. Edward would swoop in and take her to some undisclosed location, never to be heard from again. They'd hate her for eternity and she'd spend the rest of her endless days gallivanting the earth with no passion to speak off.

She felt her chest tighten, grief dripped from every word she spoke. "I love you, Seattle. Until we meet again." Bella Swan, garage punk icon, began her swan song.


	11. Chapter 11: Lariat

Chapter 11

 **Lariat**

* * *

Following Paper Doll's set, Bella hastily discarded her borrowed bass guitar against its corresponding cabinet and fled the stage. The ballroom had become an evolving maze of drunken patrons reconnecting with their friends; a puzzle that proved no challenge for Vampire agility and speed. She quickly raced to the delivery door to find her estranged best friend had installed a cheap chain and padlock set, surely to prevent more unfortunate guests from becoming Dracula's dinner. _As if rusted metal could restrict a hungry Vampire._ She discreetly snapped the fragile metal chain in two pieces, allowing her to quietly disappear from sight into the dank alley.

Bella promptly attempted to dry heave the bottom shelf whiskey from her stomach, a bodily function hers no longer wished to endure. She felt almost human again; back to a brick wall on a trash filled street with a body full of poison. When her fourth and final bout of retching failed to produce desirable results, she folded to the ground in defeat.

The House of Dirt metal delivery creeped open once more. Bella locked eyes with her sire, her captor, her murderer; Edward Cullen, as he pushed an oversized dumpster in front of the threshold.

"We should stop meeting like this, Isabella," he smirked, wiping both palms on his denim trousers. "One of us is bound to get hurt in such a dark and dangerous place."

Bella scoffed, but kept her head low. "I don't need the lecture, dude. I feel like shit."

"As you should, I suppose." He slowly approached Bella. "We all venture off at some point, some longer than others. Consider it your undead rumspringa," he joked. "After Carlisle changed me, I was hell bent on finishing my medical degree."

"I'm sorry, Edward. But we're not cut from the same cloth," Bella said, sympathizing with his grief for the lost _'what ifs'_ in life. She could not; however, understand why a punk from Seattle needed to fall even further off the grid. Estranged from every existing blood relative and surrounded by self obsessed pseudo celebrities, Bella lived a relatively lonely human life. The perfect life to precede being liquidated by an unbalanced Vampire "I don't have a family, I had no plans to be some sanctimonious pediatric nurse or homemaker. I was a kid running from her problems... I still am."

"You've fed," he said, ignoring her rebuttal. Bella's flushed creamy complexion seemed luminescent against the grey brick. He stared, unblinking, at her rosy lips.

"I'll get it under control." Bella shifted uncomfortably. His gaze scrutinized each freckle and tattoo that graced her body, as if they held the answers to Bella's mental silence.

"It requires time."

"You're not mad?" Bella asked, meeting his soft green gaze for the second time since he'd followed her outside.

"Truly, I am relieved," he said, tousling his hair in frustration. "Your trail ended at the water, obviously. I could only guess where you would swim."

This puzzled Bella. The Cullens hadn't become members of the human world by sheer luck and guesswork. Surely the family psychic possessed the capacity to see the future of her own brother's tenant. "Alice?"

"As of this afternoon, she can't see you like I can't hear you. We believe you've found a way to shield the area of your brain that plans complex cognitive behaviour." His words expressed wonderment, his eyes unwavering from her own. "It is peculiar."

"I like my privacy, I suppose." Edward nodded. "Are you here to drag me away to the big house?"

His smile fell. "I am here to give you a choice, Bella. If you're displeased with how things stand, I can only suggest you join my family in Port Angeles"

"You're kicking me out?" she said, her voice impossibly tense. Edward sighed. He strolled closer to Bella, towering over her vulnerable form. He surprised her by kneeling down to eye level and stroking the back of his fingertips to her right cheekbone. The gesture ignited a desire to simultaneously embrace and drain Edward of his undead blood. His presence continued to captivate a seemingly undomesticated module of her enhanced brain.

"I am simply asking you to make a choice. _I_ do not wish to reside with them, but it would be cruel to force you to stay." his voice tensed at the mention of joining his family. This puzzled Bella further. She'd assumed the Cullen family remained close despite their independent dwellings. "I am in debt to you, Bella. I am a man of my word."

"You are so fucking dated," Bella snickered, ignoring his mention of honor and choice.

Edward furrowed his brow. Bella laughed further at the confused expression. "I beg your pardon?"

"I get it. You were born in _nineteen-whatever._ But, _Jesus Christ_ , man. Can we have a normal conversation for once? Without this stuffy Victorian shit?" she lamented. Edward's dejected expression forced her to mumble a rapid apology for raising her voice, though she implied the sentiment was sound.

"Edwardian, actually," Edward remarked. "My family descended from a cousin of King Edward VII."

Bella's jaw fell to her chest with an inaudible gasp _._ "So you're a _P_ _rince_ or something?" she spat.

"Eldest son of a Baron," he explained directly, embarrassment colored his tone. "My Grandfather, also Edward, married an American woman and chose to raise his family in Chicago until the Great Fire. They eventually settled in Evanston where my father met my mother. The rest is tragedy, I suppose."

"You're fucking with me, right?" Bella laughed. Situational claustrophobia powered every thought as hysteria clutched her chest tightly. Every day she'd spent existing as a murderous Vampire felt like another day closer to a colossal mental breakdown. Her sire's absurd stories of lost grandeur followed by eternal repentance seemed to simultaneously inch her closer and keep her planted to the precipice. "Sir Edward III, _Baron of Freaks_ doth protest too much. But don't worry, he'll just send me away just like my own friends and family tried to."

"I'm not sending you away, Isabella."

"Call it whatever you want, _Masen,"_ she hissed. Edward flinched. "You waltz into my life like you're paying rent or some shit, turn _my life_ upside-fucking-down, and peddle me off to your Vampire _daddy."_

Edward frowned, she was correct. He was abdicating responsibility for his exploits. Just as his Grandfather had done when he moved to America. The apple never fell far from the proverbial tree.

"Same shit, different day," Bella huffed. "I'm not leaving Seattle."

Her sire stiffened, lunging to his feet. His eyes had gone dark as the starless sky above them. "Do as I say," he warned.

Bella opened her mouth to protest when two small shadowy figures appeared mere feet from Edward in a blur of white and crimson. Their pale faces were shrouded in forgotten era velvet and night air. Bella whispered colorful profanities under her breath.

"La langue, young lady," the taller of the two scolded; his voice boyish, yet stern. The other giggled. The sound sickly sweet, like bubblegum and twinkling bells; their aura alluded to something more sinister. "Our guards are trained for surgical strike. Do as _we_ say."

"Leave us be," Edward commanded. "Your policing is not required."

"Monsieur Edward, we'd never harm a member of Le Clan Cullen," the shorter one said. She lowered her deep burgundy cloak hood to expose dainty curls as pale as the waning moon. Bella blanched at her cherubic loveliness. "We are here to question votre fille. You are not a Cullen. What is your name, girl?" She fixed her glowing blue eyes on Bella, who continued to shrink behind Edward.

"B-bella," she muttered. She could feel a strange invisible pressure stabbing her frontal lobe. The seraph scowled as Edward exhaled a sigh of relief.

"Un bouclier!" the taller of the two exclaimed. "We haven't coveted a shield in quite some time. D'accord, Jane?" He lowered his matching velvet hood, revealing an alarmingly youthful appearance. Bella gawked at the two early adolescent, yet menacing Vampires. Only a monster would steal the life of a child and damn them to public servitude.

"Will you barter?" the girl, _Jane_ , asked. Turning her attention to Edward once again. "Master would feel inclined to forgive your coven's transgressions in exchange for a shield of her caliber."

Bella felt her insides plummet deep into the earth below her. She longed to follow. These evil Vampires wanted _her,_ and she had reason to believe they would be victorious.

"You have no right," Edward growled, deepening his protective stance. He abruptly crumpled to the pavement and seized in grand mal fashion for an excruciatingly quiet ninety seconds. Bella's shock left her mute and paralyzed for the duration. When the seizure subsided, Edward's eyes remained closed. If Jane and her crony had actually been sent by the ruling class of Vampires, The Volturi, Edward and Carlisle hadn't done their due diligence in explaining the omniscient power this coven possessed.

"He will be fine," the boy assured Bella. His apathetic response did little to console the grief and anger blistering her core.

Edward's lavender eyelids fluttered. Relief flooded her body like ice water, effectively dampening the flames to something merely warm and tender. "Edward, open your eyes," she pleaded, gathering his limp upper body into her arms. She firmly shook his shoulder, desperately hoping to rouse him with force.

"Jeune amour," the girl sang, tilting her head to the side. "Shall we take them both, Alec?"

Alec, likely a biological brother or cousin to the young girl, solemnly nodded his head with a spine-chilling smirk. "Les Papas will be pleased."

Bella's attempts to wake Edward from his impossible state became frenzied with fear. The rest of the Cullen were surely unaware or subdued in a similar fashion, and her only lifeline laid lifeless in her arms. A diminutive sob escaped her downturned lips.

An olive complected Vampire larger than Emmett slipped into the crowded lane. He collected Edward like a rag doll over his broad shoulder and gripped Bella around the back of her neck, hoisting her upright. "Asculta. Nu te voi rani," he growled.

"This is Feliks," Jane said, stoically gesturing toward their captor. "He vows to leave your head atop your shoulders if you behave. Come now, vii. Monsieur Edward deserves to wake in suitable accommodations."

* * *

Bella found herself in the trunk of a black Escalade on the tarmac of Seattle's foremost private airport. Edward had been laid out unconscious next to her for the entirety of their fifteen minute trek across town. She was beginning to worry that Alec had lied about his condition.

"What did they do to him," Bella pleaded with Feliks. He'd stayed in the car to keep watch. "Will he wake up?"

"He does not sleep," Feliks grunted. His deep black eyes never deviated from the small, unassuming jet on standby several yards from their vehicle.

Jane called for their mortal flight crew to board the plane and commence take off procedure for the first leg of their journey: Seattle to Frankfurt International Airport in Germany. Bella dutifully boarded the plane while saying her goodbyes to the city skyline, feeling homesick for the first time in her short life.

The airplane's interior was appropriately comfortable and spacious enough for a sixteen hour journey. Filled with lush pillows, velvet blackout curtains, and ambient light, she couldn't help but burry her face in Edward's chest when Feliks unceremoniously deposited them into a holding chamber separate from the other passengers.

Edward began to stir roughly five hours into their journey. He'd softly growled and clutched Bella's torso closer to his own. She briefly allowed his embrace, but chose to untangle their bodies to assess his condition. Edward's eyes opened, revealing hazy black pupils and dark purple bruises. "Isabella," he muttered. "Beautiful."

"That kid really did a number on you," Bella laughed, playfully deflecting his compliment. "I'm glad you're awake, though. We're somewhere over the Atlantic."

"Did they hurt you?" He hissed, quickly scanning her body for injury with his fingertips. Butterflies erupted in Bella's stomach. She ignored them. "Jane's power cannot pierce your shield?"

"I'm fine, thank god," she said, ghosting her fingertips over the dark circles surrounding his eyes. Edward hummed in approval. "You can fix this right? What do you need to get us home?"

"I... I need to hunt," he replied, shame coloring every inch of his face. "Jane's power, it is a powerful current of electricity that disrupts your cognitive faculty. It has disrupted my ability to read their minds-"

"For how long?" Bella interjected.

"I am not sure. I have met Jane through the memory of another," he admitted. They became silent as dainty footsteps approached the structurally reinforced pocket door. A faint heartbeat could be heard just beyond the thin wall.

"Bonjour, Edward," Jane announced, curtsying into the secluded rear chamber. Bella hissed, resting a protective hand on Edward's chest."I am pleased to see you have recovered, Monsieur. My sincerest apologies to you both. I would like make amends."

Edward furrowed his brow, unsure what the sociopathic child soldier had in mind for reparations. He'd never been without his talent, aside from his time spent exclusively with Bella. However, he fervently trusted the silence of Bella's creative brain. Relished in her unique turn of phrase and enthusiasm for raw expression.

He would never trust a member of the Volturi Guard.

"You are _famished,"_ she taunted, twirling a blonde ringlet around her tiny pointer finger. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose, as though a migraine had befallen him. As if on cue, Feliks discarded an unconscious human airline pilot onto the travel sized oriental rug. Bella resisted the urge to breathe as Jane slowly ran her fingernail along the delicate skin of his cheek. Tiny rivulets of blood welled to the surface. Edward snarled menacingly, his perfectly chiseled face disguised as the Vampire of her childhood nightmares. His black irises appeared to glow impossibly bright; teeth bared and ready to draw blood. "Don't make a mess of the carpet, we just had it cleaned."

The door closed behind Jane's retreating form, leaving Edward and Bella alone in a five-by-eight, airtight room with an injured man. Bella had no intentions of joining that particular sect of the mile high club.

"Don't," she gulped, drawing from her limited reserve of stale cabin air.

Edward darted from Bella's grasp and swiftly sunk his venom soaked teeth into the pilot's jugular. He growled in pleasure as he drained the man completely, his primal instincts expertly garnering every last drop. Bella's body remained frozen in fear as Edward's gaze zeroed in on her exposed neck.

"Edward?" she whispered, questioning his mental and emotional whereabouts. His eyes simmered like burning coals. A ring of flickering crimson deep in his far away gaze. Jane's childlike giggles echoed from the main cabin. Her captors enjoyed witnessing Edward as he unraveled, or perhaps, they enjoyed her fear and discomfort more so.

Edward tore his mouth away from the gaping wound, his perfect lips and teeth coated with the same substance that once gave life to the tragic pilot. "Bella," he panted. Breathless and unrecognizable as the proper gentleman he often paraded as, Edward discarded the Captain's body into the corner behind him.

"This isn't you," Bella whispered. "This happened before and, well, I know you're the type of guy who doesn't make the same mistake twice," she continued, finding her voice tucked somewhere between flight and flight.

Edward winced at the reminder of his saint-like control and patience under _most_ circumstances. However, the human blood coursing through his veins roared louder than his conscience. "I am sorry," he growled. Bella's blood ran impossibly colder. His apology did not come from a place of genuine remorse for his display of insanity. The monster before Bella undeniably thirsted for her blood and could only manage an apology _in advance._

He lunged for Bella's throat, she braced herself against the wall knowing a freshly fed, hundred year old Vampire was out of her weight class. She waited for the world to go dark, hoping for absolute death at the hands of the man who damned her. Bella knew reality was never so kind.


End file.
